


Soar

by Nununununu



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Once Upon A Time In The North
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cultural Differences, Daemon Touching, Don't copy to another site, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Original Polar Bear Character, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22852549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: Lee's an enterprising aeronaut with empty pockets and a daemon who isn't a jackrabbit, eager to get to know his impressive new polar bear friend after their hasty escape from the unwelcoming Novy Odense.He's also twenty-four, starved for touch and sex after a month alone before everything happened, and far more wound up than he's been in a long time.Some of these things might turn out to be not as unconnected as he thinks.
Relationships: Iorek Byrnison/Lee Scoresby
Comments: 41
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoreyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/gifts).



> For DoreyG, with thanks for such great inspiration and who wrote me a wonderful fic about these two - please check it out here [And It Was All Yellow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22416406)! :)
> 
> This follows directly on from and includes spoilers for the ending of 'Once Upon A Time In The North', although it should be understandable without knowledge of the book. Multi chap.
> 
> A combination of OUATITN and TV Lee here, who is very much Lin-Manuel to me :) Individual chapters will be marked for smut.

Damn, but he’s het up.

Lee’s shoulder is healing quickly and cleanly, his ear too, the bloodmoss proving itself just as effective as promised. Hester’s more or less back to herself after her scare with McConville’s rattlesnake – _Lee’s_ scare too, in honesty; seeing her leap on the other daemon like that having been both the bravest and foolhardiest thing he’s ever seen her do.

It saved their lives, that’s for sure.

Anyway, she’s currently talking low-voiced with Iorek; the polar bear crouched in the bottom of the gondola like he’s easing a fraction out of his fear, but still mostly in the grip of it yet. Thinking of this, Lee’s reminded of how Iorek had spoken of trusting him – a man of the Arctic, apparently. It’s a title that pleases Lee so much it hums in his bones, along with the thought of his Hester, no jackrabbit after all but a fine Arctic hare.

Lee doesn’t have to think about it to know how pleased Hester is, as well. How pleased they _both_ are with their new friend.

After sending a grateful thought back towards Novy Odense for the foresight of the generous and capable Miss Lund – who he’d been so quick to judge poorly, just like the other men back at the boarding house – Lee eats, drinks, discovers Iorek’s fallen asleep, changes into his warm waistcoat that still smells faintly of lavender despite the wind –

And finally allows himself to consider the predicament he’s in.

Really, Lee’s been in it for no small while now: the aftermath of adrenaline and the sheer joy of being alive all culminating in the perhaps predictable result of a certain development, as it were, going on down south in his trousers. Put bluntly, his dick’s half-hard against his thigh and unwilling to let up on him.

“Damn,” It’s a thought worth speaking aloud, although Lee keeps it quiet.

There’s his age to blame for his body’s reaction as well as everything that’s happened, and the fact he and Hester had been entirely alone for a month before their somewhat shambolic landing in that unfriendly small town. Said month had been an admittedly miserable one involving a lot of patchwork repairs to a balloon that stubbornly resisted fixing, poor to non-existent hunting with a faulty revolver, and the careful rationing out of a fast dwindling stock of food. Spending each night hungry and thoroughly chilled, Lee had distracted himself until the light faded with the map he’d been making and the much abused copy of the aerial navigation manual he’d won in that game alongside the balloon.

As a result of all this, any attempt on his part to give himself a tune up during that long old month had frankly resulted in an outcome far less like _Peril of the Pole_ and much more like _Flippety Flop_.

Even so, frustration aside, it’s not as if there’s honestly that much satisfaction to be found in the former either really – at least not when alone. Lee has admittedly always been one to fling his heart away on encountering a comely face paired with a kind and intelligent soul, Miss Lund being a case in point, unlike the unfortunate Olga Poliakova, and – 

“I call it making a fool of yourself,” Hester sees fit to interrupt his thoughts dryly, if thankfully quietly, from over where she’s curled up next to the now sleeping bear. Her gaze focuses knowingly on the knee Lee’s pulled up in front of him, because of course she can feel what he feels, and what Lee feels is –

“ _Ah_ –”

Turns out fishing for a description of just how wound up he is really isn’t helpful. Hissing, Lee shifts on his seat as his persistent erection seeks to fill out that much further within the tight fit of his trousers.

“Damn it.”

Hester snorts, “You were thinking with _that_ since the moment we landed back in town.”

“Not that I had the chance to do anything about it,” Wincing slightly, Lee chafes a palm against his knee instead of where he actually wants to rub it, darting a look over at Iorek, “Not that I have the chance to do anything about it now.”

“Not that you _would_ ,” Hester corrects quite rightly, because –

Well, simply put, it wouldn’t be proper. Indulging oneself isn’t something a body does in the company of another, awake or not; not if they haven’t had a say – and agreed to – it first.

“You’re got that right,” Lee rubs the top of Hester’s head between her ears when she hops over to his ankle in a show of solidarity, before picking her up and balancing her on his other thigh, away from – anything else.

“Maybe you’ll get a chance later,” Hester isn’t generally one to console him about such things, but there’s a touch of sympathy in her voice when he shifts again in discomfort.

“Nah, it’ll sort itself out,” Lee tells his rowdy erection as much as he tells her, “It’s not important, really.” Not in the scheme of things.

Hester’s snort is even more illustrative this time.

“You keep on telling yourself that, Lee,” She leans into his chest and Lee concentrates on stroking her, the soothing action of his hand passing from her head down her back, and tries not to let his thoughts wander back down towards the direction of his crotch.

The obvious distraction present is Iorek.

“Impressive, wasn’t it, the way he overturned that big old gas-gun,” Seeking a suitably diverting recollection, Lee murmurs.

“And how he caught you when you swooned,” is Hester’s rejoinder.

“I’ll have you know I did not at any point ‘swoon’,” Lee splutters a protest, although he’s well aware he _did_ faint earlier – twice! – or near enough, and practically right on top of Iorek the first time around.

The thought makes a slow bloom of heat prickle at the back of Lee’s neck and his cheeks, just as the memory of how very easily Iorek had caught his collar and tugged him back up reddens his ears.

“You can keep on telling yourself that as well,” Hester noses Lee’s injured shoulder more gently than she might otherwise do, before twitching her ears in Iorek’s direction, no doubt honing in on the soft whuffle of his breath. Her voice softens, “We owe him, don’t we.”

“You could say he owes us likewise,” As soon as he’s said it, Lee waves the hand not stroking her immediately, discounting his words, “No, scratch that – bear doesn’t owe us anything.”

“Mr Bear,” Hester’s amusement is audible in her voice.

“Now how was I to know the proper form of address?” Lee bites his lip when a furry white ear twitches, “Our apologies for waking you, Iorek.”

“It is of no matter – and my name is more than sufficient,” Roused from his nap, Iorek rumbles from where he’s got his nose buried under a paw. He doesn’t do more than partially open one eye, "You owe me nothing, Mr Scoresby, and have done well at correcting your pronunciation.”

“As have you,” Lee feels himself flush a little further at the reminder of his mangled initial attempts at Iorek’s name, though from a touch of chagrin this time, “Though I must confess I’d much prefer it if you called me Lee.”

“Of course,” That dark eye closes again and Lee schools himself not to wait, not to be disappointed. While he offered the use of his given name back when they were making their desperate escape from Novy Odense, the polar bear has yet to take him up on it.

Iorek, however, doesn’t disappoint.

“Lee,” he provides.

“There now, I do like the sound of that,” Lee finds himself grinning broadly, something about the sound of his name in their new friend’s voice enough to have him feeling like he’s been puffed up just like the balloon, “You know, it really is quite belated, but I do believe I never said how good it was to meet you, Iorek.”

When both of the bear’s eyes open this time, he tips his hat.

“The feeling is mutual,” For all Iorek huffs and scrubs his nose to chase off sleep before rising up on his haunches, he seems entirely sincere. He offers a solemn nod to the bundle of fur on Lee’s lap, “Hester.”

“Iorek,” She shifts to sit up on Lee’s thigh in acknowledgement, her back straight and ears high. Sensing her approval for their new friend warms Lee like nothing else, accustomed as he is to her censure – which, in fairness, has never been entirely without reason.

“And you know it,” Hester picks up on the direction of his thoughts, of course, twitching her hind legs a little in threat of a kick that doesn’t come.

“Can’t deny that I do,” Lee returns, conscious of Iorek’s attention on both himself and Hester – and of the reaction his body has yet to fully contain and which he’s very determinedly not thinking about, thankful for the folds of his clothes and his shielding knee.

“The bond between the pair of you is very strong,” Iorek thankfully seems entirely unaware. Openly interested, he looks from human to daemon and back again, “A stronger link, I believe, than those I have had the occasion to witness previously.”

“Oh now surely every person must be friends with their daemon,” Lee feels he has to protest on behalf of the folks back in Novy Odense. Even if they hadn’t seemed to show it much.

“None of them really took the time to talk,” Hester flicks an ear, “No more than a word to me or to each other or their humans; at least, not when I was paying attention or free from being stuffed down your coat.”

“Hey now, you know you like it in there,” Lee teases lightly, although the truth is that they _both_ like it; the safety and comfort of being that close. It’s not something he’d put into words normally even within his own head, but it’s true.

“When you’re not attempting to keep me from stopping you being an idiot,” Hester sniffs, as if that does anything to cover the affection he can feel spilling from her over to him.

“I’ll likely need you to keep on doing that, sweetheart,” He’d pull her close and kiss her on the top of her head if it wasn’t for their audience, something about Iorek’s attention making him –

Not shy. Lee’s certainly never shy. But – self-aware, and not only because of his still lingering predicament, which has subsided somewhat but _still_ not nearly as much as it should have. He’d be up offering Iorek a drink of water and getting one for himself otherwise. 

As it is, he needs to wait a while longer yet before playing host.

“You seem to me to be a good man, Lee, for all your youth,” Iorek eases his weight onto his forepaws somewhat, as if tempted to stand, before darting a glance up at the balloon and subsiding again, “I believe I was right in my decision to trust you.” With perhaps surprising grace, he leans down to take off his helmet, placing it carefully on the floor of the gondola.

The gesture seems meaningful somehow, for all he’s been without his armour by no choice of his own for much of the short time they’ve known each other.

“W-why, thank you for the compliment,” Lee is near appalled by the way his voice cracks, “Mighty kind of you, Mr Byrnison.” He’s reminded all over again of Iorek’s size and strength and non-humanness – the latter not something he’d forgotten, but –

But. There’s just something so _impressive_ about the polar bear, and Lee would be a fool to pretend he’s not hankering after each hint of Iorek’s regard.

Fumbling a bit, he tries to recover, “I hope it’s not out of place for me to say as much, but your use of human speech is impressive.”

It’s also changed noticeably since they first met, the bear’s initial use of broken sentences and improper grammar seemingly a thing of the past.

“I don’t think Iorek’s knowledge of our language has changed,” For all Hester quietly addresses Lee, her gaze and attention remain respectfully on their friend, “Sometimes we just speak or act the way we’re expected to, Lee, you know that. The way that gets less negative attention.”

“I – had wondered if that was the case,” Wincing a little, Lee assures Iorek, “Neither of us is going to judge; I’ve played dumb myself a time or two in the past.”

“You mean more like a time or ten,” Hester snorts and seems set to continue along this vein, but refrains when the polar bear’s attention focuses on her.

“I am no expert in the ways of humans,” Iorek’s tone is solemn and steady as he bends his head graciously to Lee’s little hare, “But however it strayed from the ways of my people, you are correct. It simply became – easier, after a while, to pander to expectation and in doing so lessen the fear of those I encountered, for all it brought shame.”

“Fear born of ignorance and scaremongering,” Lee grimaces at the thought of all the prejudice he overheard, “The whole situation back there was shameful. I’m sorry you went through all that, Iorek, and that I didn’t cotton on earlier.”

“You ‘cottoned on’ extremely quickly from what I observed,” Iorek seems unperturbed.

An unexpected frisson of _something_ shoots up Lee’s spine at the implication that Iorek might well have spotted Hester and himself earlier than when Lee was speaking with the unfortunate Captain van Breda down at the harbour – maybe a whole lot earlier, like perhaps even back when they first all but crash-landed. That Iorek could have been one of those polar bears keeping to the shadows and alleyways of the unwelcoming town, ducking out of the way of humans who looked aside or acted like such deference was their due.

The thought of Iorek having to abase himself like that is painful enough for Lee’s body to finally finish quitting its complaints at his neglect, although he’s angered enough he barely notices.

“I must apologise for not acting openly at first,” Iorek looks as chastened as Lee’s ever seen him, which more or less confirms at least part of that theory.

“You had to be certain we wouldn’t react like the inhabitants of Novy Odense,” Hester puts in, before Lee’s mouth can do more than open, cutting off the hot-headed words readying themselves to spill out, “We understand.”

“Sure do,” Subsiding, Lee still has to grumble a bit, “There’s no need for you to apologise for doing what you had to do, Iorek. I feel downright awful that we didn’t help you out earlier, truth be told.”

“You helped me in precisely the manner in which I required aid and must not blame yourself for something you had no control over,” Iorek’s answer is matter of fact. He rises up on his forepaws with far less caution this time, and takes a step over towards them, nostrils flaring, “How fare your injuries?”

At the entirely inappropriate thought of just what else that incredibly sensitive nose might be able to detect, Lee feels himself damningly stir, his body proving itself still on edge; that so recently regained equilibrium of his fleeing as all of his thwarted desire rushes back.

“ _Ah_ –”

The sensation of his dick twitching combined with the ache in his balls is enough to make him swallow both a gasp and a curse.

“ _Lee_ ,” Hester nips his thumb in warning.

“No – no problem there, thank you,” Hissing under his breath, Lee curses himself and shakes his hand, grasping at the answer as if doing so will provide a sufficient distraction for both himself and the bear, “I can feel that bloodmoss keeping on with its fine work.”

There’s nowhere to escape to from Iorek’s steady gaze in the balloon, so Lee shakes his legs out as best he can, strokes Hester’s head briefly in unspoken gratitude, and staggers over to their food stores in the attempt to hide the heat in his cheeks.

“I am glad to hear it,” The polar bear seems mildly puzzled by Lee’s abrupt retreat, as well he might, but nonetheless willing to take Lee at his word.

“Can we offer you a drink?” Jumping down from his arms, Hester takes up the conversation, giving Lee a moment to sharply berate himself and strive for calm that once again takes no small while to return.


	2. Chapter 2

That night Lee finds himself dreaming of sex – nebulous, shifting notions that have him starting awake in the cold clamp of predawn, tangled in fur blankets and disgracefully hard.

“Bad dreams?” Iorek’s voice is the deepest of murmurs, his body a great shape amongst the remaining dark; a silhouette of a polar bear looking up at the stars. There’s something almost regal about it and Lee’s transfixed for a moment despite his extremity.

“Just troublesome ones,” That’s for sure. Wiping a hand over his face to conceal a self-directed grimace, Lee eases the other down to his crotch to apply a determinedly quelling touch, sparing a grateful thought for the concealing blankets.

“Here,” Iorek lowers his head in order to nudge a small something over towards Lee, metal by the sound of it and soon revealed to be his canteen.

“Why thanks,” Touched, Lee pushes up to his elbows to uncap it, careful not to dislodge the bundle of slumbering hare tucked inside his waistcoat. He drinks voraciously, caught by an unexpected thirst, and wipes his mouth, considering the polar bear, “You holding up all right there, Iorek?”

It seems easier to ask in the darkness somehow.

“Hm?” Thankfully Iorek doesn’t seem affronted. Nor does he seek to dissemble, “Indeed, I am growing accustomed to being aloft.”

“I’m real glad to hear it,” Lee finds himself grinning, because Iorek _does_ seem more relaxed, the fact he’s sitting up on his haunches and looking up out of the basket at the stars a good sign. He doesn’t expect Iorek to continue, but the polar bear does.

“I believe the company is as responsible as the steadiness of your craft,” The warmth in Iorek’s voice is unmistakable.

“Now isn’t that a nice thing to say,” Lee ducks into his shoulders before he can catch himself. If it were daytime, he’d be lowering his head to hide beneath the brim of his hat. This makes him wonder just how keen Iorek’s eyesight is and how well the polar bear can see in the dark, which in turn reminds him of his erection.

The thing perks up at the attention, darn it.

Lee’s awareness of it flares likewise despite his efforts to rustle up more of a reply. He can feel how his underwear is damp with precome, his balls tight with seed left unspilled for too long. He hisses under his breath, debating the worth of another quelling touch – namely whether he’s got willpower enough for it and whether his fingers won’t end up just taking hold of himself instead, and –

Such thoughts are _definitely_ unhelpful.

“I do not wish to keep you engaged in conversation should you desire to attempt further sleep,” Iorek lies down, the great shape of him more visible now the first glimmer of morning’s light is creeping into the gondola, resting his head on his forepaws. There’s something so _comfortable_ about the sight of him that Lee finds himself wanting to crawl out of his nest of furs and plop himself down next to his friend. For all that the air is icy, Iorek must surely be warm.

Lee’s skin prickles even as he refrains from observing as much out loud.

“The same here, Iorek; don’t let me keep you awake,” It’s only momentarily awkward to burrow back down under his blankets, ignoring the chafe of his clothing against his nagging dick. Lee slings an arm around Hester, holding her closer, feeling the beat of her little heart. The ache in his chest out of time with the throb down below in his trousers, or so he tells himself.

Lee glances at the space between himself and Iorek; glances away.

“Never thought we’d end up giving a ride to such an impressive passenger,” he murmurs to his sleeping daemon after a bit, intently aware Iorek’s sharp ears will like as not hear. It feels like a time for confessions, as if such things will bridge the distance between them in a sense, and so he raises his voice a touch, “I’m glad you’re with us, Iorek.”

“I too am glad,” Iorek’s rumble is swallowed up by a yawn, “I stand by my assertion that you are a good man, Lee. You may consider me equally impressed.”

Dang it, now Lee is well and truly blushing.

“N-now I don’t see how that’s –” His attempt at a response is interrupted when he catches the yawn, his jaw cracking with the strength of it, Iorek’s amused huff the only thing saving Lee from mortification. The sun’s not far off climbing its way over the horizon; Hester’s going to be on his case for sloth soon enough, when she wakes up, “I suppose we should rightly be getting up, not going back to sleep.”

“Unless your balloon requires attention, surely resting for a short while longer cannot hurt,” Iorek sounds faintly reluctant at the thought of rising – and already half asleep.

Damn, but something about their shared laziness makes Lee want to smile like a fool up at the hints of blue chasing the night out of the sky.

“Surely it won’t,” he answers, as quiet now as he can, and relaxes himself, the stars fading above them as the steady rhythm of Iorek’s breathing deepens and slows.

Lee’s body might be playing havoc with him in a certain sense, but he hasn’t felt so happy or peaceful in a fair old while as he does right then. He tumbles into a doze still smiling –

And wakes a while later with what feels like the _same_ erection, curse it all.

“You know you’re going to have to do something about that before too long,” Hester remarks low in his ear while Lee’s blinking himself awake, feeling much like he’s been kicked in the crotch but with quite the opposite effect to the norm.

“That’s for sure,” It’s undeniable Lee’s starting to feel like if he goes on for much longer like this, his balls are going to burst. That or he’ll probably end up having some truly embarrassing wet dreams – and he knows for a fact, thanks to Hester, he has a tendency to talk in his sleep if he gets worked up enough.

“We should land for a while today anyway,” Hester is the voice of reason as ever, “Take stock and work out what’s going to happen next. Hunt for more food.”

However well they might have been provided for, Miss Lund cannot have known to predict their additional guest and Lee’s not about to offer Iorek dried jerky or the cousins of the tinned cans he survived on for that month. Also, while he’d strip down and give himself a standing-up wash if it were just him and Hester, Lee's inexplicably hesitant at the thought of doing so observed. It’s not as if Iorek hasn’t seen him shirtless before, the bear having aided him so effectually with his injuries, but –

“Would you like the opportunity to stretch your legs if we find somewhere suitable to land?” Hester is already asking Iorek, the bear lifting his head up from his bucket of water to listen.

It strikes Lee not for the first time how natural it feels, the simple fact of his daemon speaking with the polar bear – something that would be downright unthinkable were Iorek human.

“If we are all in favour of doing so,” So far Iorek has never failed to be polite with Hester. A lump of emotion clogs Lee’s throat at the sight of his little hare perched on her haunches, looking up at the great big polar bear while Iorek considers her courteously.

Lee’s accustomed to not being taken seriously himself on occasion; has been known to encourage such a reaction when it serves. To have a body – or rather and more specifically, to have _Iorek_ – look at and speak to Hester like she’s just as worthy as Lee knows her to be –

It lights up a big ball of warmth under his ribs, that’s what it does. 

“Anywhere within this area suitable for the balloon to set down will be sufficient for hunting,” Iorek states some short while later, when Lee’s got his rudimentary map spread out on the floor of the gondola, a mug of black coffee billowing steam as it weighs down a corner and a bowl of fast cooling oatmeal in hand. Having sniffed the coffee and declined the offer of some for himself, Iorek traces a line across ocean and islands on the map with an opposable thumb, his habitual control great enough the claw doesn’t even catch on the folds in the thick paper. “The ice will have changed since I last travelled these parts.”

There’s a quality to his voice that, in another, might be called wistful.

“I take it you don’t herald from Novy Odense,” Lee keeps his tone light, powerfully curious but not wanting to push, “Been travelling long?”

“Hm,” Iorek makes a snorting sound deep in his throat, “As you would reckon it, perhaps.”

“Left Texas not that long ago ourselves,” Lee glances at Hester, “What, half a year back?”

“Blown where the wind and our bellies take us,” she confirms, ears flicking to indicate her amusement, “Unaided by _someone’s_ navigational skills.”

“Hey now rabbit, that implication’s downright untrue,” Lee’s obliged to protest, although he’s grinning, and it doesn’t hurt at all when Hester swats his hand.

“It’s as true as the fact I’m not a rabbit,” With that proud proclamation, she hops around Lee in order to position herself close to Iorek, and then promptly proves herself ever the one to speak aloud what Lee hesitates to say, “There were other polar bears living in that human town, but you come from far off, don’t you.”

“The land of my father is known as Svalbard,” Iorek tells her with a look that includes Lee, “An archipelago further up north, it is home to many panserbjørne.”

“Panser –” Lee’s accent attempts to mangle the word and he winces apologetically, cutting it off halfway, “I’ll get there. Your father holds that land?”

“I think maybe more than ‘holds’,” Hester crinkles her nose thoughtfully.

“’Hold’ is one way of describing it,” Iorek graciously turns a deaf ear to Lee’s fumble. Still he tips his head before producing a mouthful so deep and remarkable Lee has no hope of doing anything other than gazing at him in admiration. Next to the polar bear – _panserbjørn_ – Hester sits upright, very still, more or less doing the same.

“Now that sounded mighty impressive,” Shaking himself, Lee scratches his cheek, his gloved fingers catching on stubble as he conceals his expression in his mug.

“It is my name in the language of my kind,” Appearing amused or perhaps mildly flattered, a certain light enters Iorek’s gaze as he speaks again in his own tongue, this time something not unlike a lighter ripple of throaty vowels.

“Am I right in thinking that might just mean something like ‘Mr Scarsby’,” Lee has the impression he’s on the right track given that glint in the panserbjørn’s eye, Hester likewise seeming to glean something from Iorek’s expression for she chuckles.

“It is a term that didn’t exist previously,” Iorek sits himself up higher as he regards them, his head still quirked, “While panserbjørne don’t have the language for it precisely, I believe it would translate close to ‘foolish aeronaut.”

Rather than this sounding in any way an insult, his tone makes the epithet fond and unambiguously teasing.

“Why, I –” Caught off guard, heat rushes traitorously to Lee’s face as his heart leaps. Words fail him badly enough he’s left sitting there with his mouth open until he accepts he has no option but to winch it back shut.

“He’s got you all worked out, Lee,” Bounding in amusement, Hester crows.

“There’s nothing to work out,” Lee dredges up an objection a little weakly, still feeling somewhat like he’s reeling, “I’m a straightforward man.”

“In some ways perhaps, yes,” Slipping back into his usual solemnity, Iorek’s dark eyes rest steadily on Lee’s face. Huffing faintly, the panserbjørn neatly hoists himself up, taking a couple of paces forwards until he fills Lee’s vision, “In seriousness, I find you to be not at all foolish, but courageous, clear sighted and quick thinking, and your art at dissembling is not to be underestimated.”

This close, it’s as if a bright light is shone on the differences between them – not that Lee is necessarily inclined to admit it, but he’s only around middling average for a human in height and not that broad to boot, his Hester similarly small in stature. Iorek is massive in contrast, incredibly so, one of his forepaws larger than Lee’s very head. He’s notably bigger than that old grizzly Lee had gotten acquainted with back in the Yukon in days gone past and would utterly dwarf Lee without even trying were he to rise up on his hind legs. One swipe from that paw and Lee and Hester could nigh be done for.

And yet, as he blinks up at Iorek, Lee knows full well that the shiver of danger chasing down the length of his spine is merely instinctive. The proximity thrills him rather than leaving him afraid, the weighty intellect palpable in the panserbjørn’s gaze. Looking back at him, it occurs to Lee quite distinctly that, even amongst his own kind, Iorek must surely be someone to be reckoned with.

Someone worthy of it.

For all he’s not usually one to be lost for words, Lee finds himself tongue-tied all over again, struck by the echo in his ears of Iorek’s praise. Curling his fingers in towards his palms in the attempt to lessen the powerful urge to reach out to touch white fur.

“I’m – much obliged for the compliment,” When Lee finally manages to scrape his voice back up, he doesn’t sound like himself.

It’s been a long time since he had a body to touch. Since there was somebody to touch him. Hester’s the best of all comforts and Lee has no idea what he’d do without her – well, he knows what he’d do without her and that would be to simply stop existing, but –

But.

“It is simply the truth,” Iorek regards him for a moment longer, before inclining his head.

“Iorek –” Lee’s tugging one of his gloves off before he can stop himself or quite knows what he's about.

“ _Lee_ ,” Hester says, very quiet, from somewhere down by his knee.

“Mm,” Lee shoots a glance down at her, though he’s unable to keep his gaze away from Iorek for any longer than that. Hester’s perched on her haunches, almost quivering, looking from one of them to the other.

“Hm,” Iorek doesn’t quite echo, just as Lee doesn’t quite reach out and touch.

Instead he just offers the panserbjørn his bared hand, palm flat and facing up, and, after half a second in which Lee starts to curse himself for being an ignorant fool, Iorek makes a harrumphing sound and brings his nose down to whisk over Lee’s fingertips.

Lee’s got decent self-control if he’s not distracted by what's going on downstairs – or at least he does when it comes to the crunch. It takes all of it to repress an instinctive jerk of his hand now, to hold his arm steady as Iorek breathes against his palm. The whuff of the panserbjørn’s breath is strong and warm, his whiskers ticklish, and pinpricks of sensation go racing under Lee’s cuff in response, chasing all the way up his arm.

The desire to shift his hand higher and bury his fingers in Iorek’s ruff is so strong he has to bite down hard on the inside of his lip.

He’d like to think he’s not too bad a hand at reading Iorek’s expression by now, and is coming to be familiar with more and more of the bear’s body language. However Lee can’t fathom what Iorek must be making of his own expression, given he hardly knows what face he's making himself. Still, a deep down part of him can’t deny that he likes it – the closeness and the whisper of touch.

“Lee –”

There’s a moment in which Lee thinks Iorek might be tempted to lean further in and sniff him again – his wrist, perhaps, or maybe even the bare skin of his neck above his coat collar and scarf. Lee’s breath hitches, something tightening low in his stomach at the thought, and he presses his mouth closed to prevent anything inopportune making it out, dropping his other hand to Hester’s head, needing the grounding contact.

The action catching Iorek’s attention, the panserbjørn pulls back without haste, leaving Lee’s palm to prickle in the renewed cold. Lee neglects putting his glove back on all the same, although the bite to the air will force him to before long.

“If you wish to hear it, I do believe I have yet to tell you of the way in which my kind would say Arctic hare,” With a glance at Lee, Iorek leans his head down to address Hester.

“I’d like that,” She sounds just as swept away as Lee feels, yet openly keen to accept, her ears perking up despite her following grumble, “This here idiot used to call me a coney.”

The complaint in Hester’s voice as she mock-kicks Lee is clear enough the look Iorek shoots first her and then Lee makes the latter think he’s startlingly close to laughter – or the bear equivalent of it.

Iorek bends his head closer to Hester in consolation nonetheless, “Indeed?”

“Now Hester, you know it was long before you settled when I last did that,” Lee suddenly has the decided impression they’re going to end up ganging up on him if he’s not careful.

“And were even tinier then, I imagine, than you are now,” Iorek conjectures, while Hester cackles at Lee’s indignant yelp, and –

Yeah. He’s absolutely right, isn’t he.

Lee finds he likes the prospect so much he has to hide his face in his mug all over again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee gets to work out at least one issue, even if he doesn't quite yet manage another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out this wonderfully steamy Iorek/Lee fic by the talented DoreyG, here: [Celestial Rosy Red](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961905) :D
> 
> Smut.

They get the balloon landed somewhat later than planned, but with far more success than their tumultuous descent into Novy Odense, helped by a friendly breeze that doesn’t seek to fight them and no buildings of any kind in sight to avoid – just some fair-sized snow-streaked mountains over yonder that give them no trouble as they touch down on a stretch of tufted sedge and rock that leads slowly down towards glistening blue water. The weight of their panserbjørn passenger aids the balloon in remaining steady as it deflates, and Iorek rises onto his hind legs to get a good look out of the gondola without hesitation once Hester’s bounded up onto the rail and declared the first stage of their landing complete.

“Go ahead,” Having kept his hat without needing to hold onto it, Lee’s over at the controls, checking everything continues to be as it should, but he catches the glance Iorek shoots back at him, although the polar bear’s nose seems itching to be pointed into the wind.

“Unless the timing is inconvenient, I will return when the sun touches the top of the mountains,” Iorek waits for Lee’s nod of agreement and then climbs adroitly up over the side, Hester exclaiming as the gondola rocks at his leap.

“Going down to the water,” She informs Lee when he look up, unable to see their friend from his position but unconsciously seeking to peer after him all the same, “He’s fast.”

“Sure is,” Lee well remembers the speed Iorek had got up to back in the warehouse, once the bear had taken a few preliminary steps. He remembers how effectively Iorek’s sheer strength had then dealt with the first of several problems at hand, before skirting away from the recollection of what he and Hester had done next themselves with the rest.

“Seals are trying to do their disappearing trick again,” Distracted by her observation of events outside the gondola, Hester sounds uncharacteristically fascinated, her own nose aimed similarly into the wind, “Not as successfully.”

“Now don’t tell me you’re going to start hankering after a swim,” Telling himself that thinking back on that desperate fight with McConville is pointless except to recall the lessons he learnt from it, Lee seeks to settle his mind on the conversation.

Despite knowing it’s unnecessary, he double checks the Winchester is wrapped and stored safely all the same.

“I’m not the one who needs a dunk – and a shave,” Hester appears at his elbow, apparently having torn herself away from the entertainment. She wrinkles her nose at the rifle, “Can I trust we won’t be needing that for a while?”

“Might be handy when it comes to catching dinner,” Rubbing his forefinger and thumb over his moustache and emergent whiskers, Lee scoops Hester up and gives her a hug, “Let’s finish up with the balloon and then go for a wander before anything else.”

“Go kick stones and pretend there’s not more work to be done, you mean,” Hester complains, but she climbs up onto his shoulders readily enough and there’s a chuckle in her tone to match Lee’s as he clears the edge of the gondola with one hand on his daemon’s back to keep her in place and a practiced jump.

Looking about to get his bearings once the balloon’s not about to go anywhere without them, Lee takes a moment to appreciate the sparse coastline and the mountains over to one side. There are few enough combinations of shades at this time of day in this little patch of the world that the blue of the water and sky and green of the sedge catch his eye, the colours seeming intrinsically different from those back in Texas.

“Smells completely different as well,” Hester’s nose is working hard.

“I bet,” Lee draws in a whiff of his own, although his senses have nothing on his little hare’s, “Smells good, though.”

Hester leans against the side of his head, a warm soft bundle of arctic hare, “Uh-huh.”

Taking care not to disturb her, Lee folds the brim of his hat up out of the way and eyes the scud of clouds overhead as if by doing so he can divine how the wind will blow later, despite his awareness of how changeable the weather can be.

He can only hope it will continue to be kind to them for Iorek’s sake – Lee has an entire barrelful of stories about furious lightning and unexpected windstorms he and Hester have battled through that he’s not about to share with their new friend unless requested.

“If Iorek’s presence means you’ll keep from taking us on ‘shortcuts’ that really aren't in any way short or making decisions on the toss of a coin, we should be all right,” Hester hops from Lee’s shoulder onto the forearm he holds out for her and then down to the ground, “Although we’ll need to find a town somewhere to stop at after the next flight to top-up on gas. Whatever you think about digging for it, I maintain the opinion it’s a bad idea.”

“Aw, don’t you think it’d be an adventure?” There’s something appealing about the notion – no need to fill their empty pockets just for the sake of being able to fly – although Lee’s conscious it could involve a whole lot more hard work and uncertainty than either of them would ultimately enjoy.

“You’d end up cursing yourself by the end of it,” is Hester’s prediction, “And I’d be cursing you right alongside. You just want to spend any money we earn on drink, cards and chasing questionable company.”

And with that utterly unfounded slur on his person, she starts to make her way down to the shore, obliging Lee to follow after.

“I’ll have you know I take objection to that,” he protests in the full knowledge that this is something he might in fact actually be guilty of having done a time or two in the past, a hand going to his waistcoat pocket to fish out the tin there, popping it open in search of his cigarillos and plucking one out.

“You know _someone_ might take objection to _that_ ,” Bounding ahead of Lee as she is, Hester pauses to give him a look, “If you’re planning on sticking parts of yourself under Iorek’s nose again soon, you should probably ask.”

She snorts when Lee’s foot misses the pebble he was intending to kick.

“Hey now, that old grizzly might have smoked my cigars alongside polishing off my whisky, but that doesn’t mean I was going to presume,” Coughing into a fist to cover the sensation of a touch of restless heat prickling his cheeks, Lee sticks the cigarillo behind an ear for safekeeping. It’s not a lie – he’s just always been inclined to have something in his hands to fiddle with. Curling his fingers inside his gloves, he sticks them in his coat pockets instead.

The thought of Iorek sniffing him again is –

Well, there’s no reason Lee can come up with that the panserbjørn would. Hunching his shoulders a bit, he lengthens his stride, leaning into the trek and catching up with Hester thereby soon enough.

“There Iorek is now,” His attention fixes on the sleek white head that surfaces a way out in the water, the slack body of a seal who must have proved too slow at scrambling held neatly in the panserbjørn’s mouth, “Hester, look.”

“I’m looking,” Her voice is dry, “You can see I’m looking, Lee, you just have to glance down for a moment at me.” She draws to a stop as Iorek slides easily back under the surface, heading off somewhere presumably for a late lunch, “And now he’s gone.” 

“Yep,” Lee refrains from pointing out that he can see this just as well. He casts a contemplative eye over at the mountains instead, “Just you and me for another hour or so, huh.”

“ _Uh-huh_ ,” Hester’s agreement is dry.

“Well, you did suggest it,” Lee drawls just for the sake of making her squawk and, though he’s not entirely jumping for joy at the idea of shedding any layers in this kind of cold or the middle of the day just for the sake of – as it were – seeing to the pipes, there’s a cantankerous churn in his pelvis that serves as a timely reminder that taking the opportunity while it’s available would indeed be for the best.

\--

“Feels kind of – low doing it like this though, I’ve got to say,” Lee swallows a grimace once they’re back at the balloon, Hester perched on the rail while he props himself in the warmest corner available in the gondola and works off a glove.

“Just get it over with, Lee,” is his daemon’s advice on the matter, “You’ve done it in far worse situations than this.”

“That’s true enough,” Lee can only snort – it’s undeniable he went through a period where his hand was his best friend after Hester as an idiot teen.

Still, those years feel longer ago than they honestly were and it’s hard to get his mind onto business in the here and now however certain parts down below are quick to start perking up demandingly. Propping a booted foot on a nearby crate, Lee loosens a layer or two and unfastens just enough of his clothing for access, hissing lowly between his teeth as he curls his fast cooling fingers around his cock.

It stirs in a mixture of willingness and reluctance, although the former wins out when he firms his grip in the reminder they might not get the chance to get reacquainted again for another while. The first tug makes him wince –

“Dang, it’s been a while –”

While the second and third gets both him and his cock more into the swing of things, even if there’s still a certain lack of enthusiasm going on neither had predicted, but harkens back to attempts made during that long old month without company.

“You _do_ remember how it goes, right?” Hester decides to helpfully pitch in, and Lee huffs a laugh even as he pulls a face.

“I’ll let you know in a bit,” Damn it, he should have dug out something to use as lubricant. Licking his palm doesn’t really do the trick, but at least it’s something and there’s a tingling in his balls that promises better things might be lurking on the horizon.

“ _Uh_ –”

Now he’s just got to get there. Somehow.

“I’m going to start listing all the worthwhile things you could be doing instead of this in not too long,” Hester threatens after a couple of minutes that involve some development but still markedly less than Lee had been hoping, a touch of sympathy in her voice behind the tease.

“Don’t you dare, Hester,” Lee can only threaten in answer, a bit strangled at the thought, “Not unless you _want_ this to take forever.”

“Definitely not,” His daemon drops down into the gondola to wriggle herself into the gap between Lee’s coat and the small of his back, settling there in silent encouragement.

“All right then,” A few lucky twists of his wrist aid in getting Lee a bit closer, but sliding the ball of his thumb over the head of his cock to press lightly against the slit – a typically infallible trick – actually mostly just kind of stings, “Sheesh.”

“Go easy on yourself, Lee,” Quiet now, Hester huddles in yet closer.

“Y-yeah –” Wincing, Lee closes his eyes and grits his teeth, sending his thoughts out in hope of coming up with inspiration.

He’s generally got an active imagination and a tendency to flights of fancy at the best of times – as a little hare of his might put it – but for some reason letting his mind wander doesn’t turn out to be particularly fruitful and the memory of the dream he woke from before dawn scatters frustratingly when he tries to grasp at it.

Right, so another tactic is needed. If he’s feeling indulgent, deliberately conjuring up a tumble with someone in particular is usually the ticket to success –

Still, picturing Miss Lund doesn’t seem appropriate somehow. 

She’d been sure enough of Lee’s sense of honour to invite him into her room in the boarding house at well gone curfew, and keeping his thoughts clean now when it comes to her seems to slot in naturally with that. She’d stood there in that nightgown of hers and spoken to him with no indication of there being any impropriety and, while Lee’s still partially convinced – if less so than he was – that he’d hand his heart to her if things were different and she asked for it, he hadn’t felt inclined to steer the conversation towards the bed even back then.

There’s maybe something there worth contemplating at another time.

The memory of Olga Poliakova is all tangled up in her painfully ignorant prejudice and, sparkle though those dark eyes of hers had, Lee can’t seem to see beyond the stupidity of the things she’d said. Thinking of how someone could be so small-minded – however likely it is the girl’s opinion was a by-product of her father’s overwhelming personality and decidedly unpleasant rhetoric – is off-putting enough Lee has to steer his thoughts away firmly, lest he get completely put off by the memory of Poliakov senior spouting his dangerous nonsense about bears.

There seems little chance Iorek can’t have been aware of all the poison that man had sought to spread –

There seems little chance that Iorek –

That Iorek –

“Ah –” His cock surging against his fingers, Lee catches his breath in a stifled gasp, boot skidding on its perch as his leg kicks out in sudden zeal, his free hand flailing out in search of Hester and landing on a twin to the wooden crate instead.

“What _are_ you doing there, Lee?” Her ears twitching, his daemon pokes her head out from behind him to peer up at him dubiously.

“A-ah, nothing; it’s nothing –” Steadying himself, Lee cranks his hand down again with the first actual dose of genuine eagerness he’s felt about the whole sorry venture, dragging his lower lip in over his teeth without realising it, relief going off like a bright burst of light inside his chest as what he’s doing finally registers as properly pleasurable.

Right, what had been he thinking about –? Not Miss Lund, but – but –

“Huh –”

In honesty, had Lee not been distracted by the holes he’d sprouted back then, he’d have been tempted to pay more attention to that fiancé of Miss Lund’s, not that he’d known of Lieutenant Haughland’s affianced status at the time.

Now that was an upstanding young officer Lee would have enjoyed rumpling. Even if he hadn’t noticed what colour eyes the man had. Lee’s always been a sucker for a nice pair of dark eyes. Had Haughland’s been brown?

Black? No, that’s not right; that’s –

Anyway, Hester hadn’t seemed to mind the Lieutenant’s fox daemon, which would have helped with any friendly negotiating. Conjuring up the fantasy of the Lieutenant taking a more hands-on approach to Lee’s arrest has a definite positive effect, his heartrate and hand both picking up as he lets himself imagine the man, say, patting him down, bending him over some table in the privacy of an otherwise conveniently empty office –

“ _Hah_ –”

A heavy yet surprisingly gentle weight on his back, pinning him down firmly as his cheek and chest press against cool wood – no, against the cold ground. Hot breath in contrast gusting over the back of Lee’s bare neck, his cock leaking precome as shivers chase wildly over his skin at the brush of stunningly soft –

Fur –

_“F-fuck,”_ Lee strives to wrench his mind back onto his fantasy of the Lieutenant even as he rocks up into the tight circle of his fist, fingers slick enough by now that all he can really register is how good it feels.

Damned inappropriate nonetheless to be thinking of – thinking of –

_“Lee!”_ Hester leaps in front of him without warning, her ears straight up and almost quivering.

“ _Shit_ _–”_ Yelping, Lee shoots a frantic look around, once again stymied by his inability to see through the sides of the gondola, “Is – i-is the sun – _hah_ – t-the mountains –?”

How much time do they have left? _Is Iorek –?_

The thought of the panserbjørn clambering back over the edge of the gondola – of Iorek catching Lee at it – of what those dark eyes might see and that talented nose smell –

_“Ah –”_

Helpless, Lee pumps his hand down hard as his hips thrust up just as fiercely, a grunt spilling out of his throat however he tries to prevent it. Hester’s saying something urgently, but he can’t hear what it is, orgasm hitting him like a punch to the balls, the sudden smack of sensation shooting up out of his cock along with the resultant evidence he just about manages to catch on his palm.

_“Hah – hah – oh – oh fuck –”_

Collapsing back any old how amongst the crates afterwards, brainless with the sheer relief of coming after so many weeks without, Lee goes to let out an appreciative sigh. Although, wait; hadn’t Hester –

“Feeling better?” She lands without ado on his chest, Lee’s sigh bursting out of him explosively instead.

“Damn right I am,” Fishing for a handkerchief to mop up what needs mopping, Lee both confirms and complains, “Even if you’re trying to flatten me, rabbit.”

“Good, because I’m giving you about thirty seconds to get yourself sorted,” There’s tension in her voice and in the paw she bats at his chin.

The fact she doesn’t remind him she’s not a rabbit clues Lee in to the fact he really does need to pay attention, however much he’d like to just continue to loll bonelessly.

Memory catches up with him.

“Dang, Iorek’s on his way back, isn’t he,” Shoving himself up on an elbow, Lee worms a hand down past his daemon to hastily tuck himself back in, a little less gently than his now oversensitive dick appreciates.

“ _It’s not about him_ ,” Hester practically headbutts him in her haste to get him up on his feet, “Another polar bear. I’m sure I can hear another polar bear.” Her ears swivel, homing in on something, “A way off still, but heading in our direction.”

“What?” Lee stares at her for a second, and then he’s shaking himself, pushing himself upright properly, “You don’t think they’re coming over just to say hello?”

“Do you remember the time back when you thought that moose was just trying to pass the time of day?” Hester gives him a look.

“Hester, you know moose don’t speak,” Lee’s not about to presume one way or another about the reasons another bear might approach them, but he’s learnt thanks to a number of past misadventures that poking his head over the side of the balloon without due caution might result in him nearly losing his head.

Could this have something to do with Iorek –?

Refusing to resort to the Winchester without good reason, Lee reluctantly checks on the location of his pistol just in case, and gathers Hester up in one arm as he goes to investigate.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee has a belated realisation and much alcohol causes feelings to start to come to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A one-off appearance by an original polar bear character, plus minor references to a slightly AU backstory for Iorek and panserbjørne culture.
> 
> (Slightly edited)

“This is my territory,” The other bear says.

“You have my apologies for our ignorance,” Lee tugs his hat off to duck his head in contrition, wondering how well he’s reading her body language and how much he only _thinks_ he is from association with their own panserbjørn.

She’s notably smaller than Iorek, but still huge in comparison to Lee and the little arctic hare tucked inside his coat. A fair sight older too, by the look of her, and there’s a lot of wear to her battered armour and the gauntlets she wears proudly on both forearms. There’s something very impressive about both her and it, in the same way that their own panserbjørn friend is impressive –

No, it’s not the same.

This bear seems wilder somehow, in contrast to the way Iorek comes across as so controlled and deliberate; how he seems at time strangely regal – refined, almost, like he’s a bear set apart. Still, it’s not to say that Iorek isn’t wild himself – the panserbjørn may be civilised, but it would be untrue as well as darned insulting to consider him _domesticated_.

But.

But Iorek described his father as holding Svalbard, didn’t he, or _more_ than holding it, as according to Lee’s little hare. And – dang, now hold on a minute; why didn’t it occur to Lee before that –

Well, as humans reckon it, wouldn’t that make Iorek the equivalent of a _prince_?

“Damn it Lee, get your mind back on track,” Hester chides from inside her hiding place as Lee just about chokes on his own breath.

“Y-yeah,” Looking at the deep scours all down the length of the female bear’s gauntlets and the way she’s missing an eye and an ear, Lee can’t help but be conscious of the fact Iorek’s helmet is wrapped up back in the gondola. Not that he’d need it if it came to it, no doubt, but still –

Regardless. For all Lee and Hester have never seen Iorek interact with other bears and as such have little way to predict what he’d make of this newcomer, they _have_ landed in this here panserbjørn’s territory. And Lee’s got an apology to make good on, as such.

Glancing over his shoulder at the balloon, he takes in the sight of the sun stretching its way down towards the snow-capped peaks.

“I was just thinking of cooking up some dinner,” He gives the female bear a grin, “You fancy joining us?”

“Lee,” Is Hester’s resultant mutter, “Not _everyone’s_ idea of an apology is via their stomach.”

“Haven’t met that person yet,” Lee shrugs.

The female bear stares at him for a long moment, clearly weighing them up.

“You have drink to go with it?” she asks brusquely when he’s just about decided she’s going to deem them lacking and demand they leave. They’ve a while left until dusk, but not enough time to get the balloon up and going, let alone landed elsewhere before dark sets in or their fuel runs out enough to risk not getting to that next town they’re planning on.

And he’s not about to go without Iorek.

“I take it you mean liquor,” Lee’s grin deepens as he relaxes, suddenly sure there’s a good chance that everything’s going to work out, “I can assure you we most certainly have that.”

“It looks like we have fish too,” Hester’s poked her head out over Lee’s collar, her nose pointed back towards the water. Lee turns to look and she’s right –

There’s Iorek, fresh out of the ocean and soaking wet with it, the biggest fish Lee’s ever seen at his feet and his gaze fixed squarely on the other bear.

\--

“You,” Is Iorek’s greeting to the female bear as she tromps down towards the water’s edge towards him, Lee feeling it prudent he and Hester tag alongside.

There’s not aggression in Iorek’s stance, not precisely, and the look he sends the three of them is unreadable. He shakes himself off before they reach him, the spray of water cascading everywhere.

“It seems you’re still alive too then,” the female bear returns before Lee can put in a good word, padding in close enough it makes the difference in size between the two panserbjørne utterly undeniable –

Then she rears back and wallops Iorek across the jaw, a stunning blow he signally makes no effort to evade.

“Hmph,” Rocking only marginally with the impact, Iorek simply rears up to about half his full height in response and places a forepaw gently against the back of the other bear’s neck, pressing her down like that onto the rocky shore.

Lee’s mouth goes abruptly dry.

“Yes, I’m aware you have grown,” For all her growl rings out over the water, the female polar bear doesn’t seek to fight, although she does stubbornly insist, “That still doesn’t make this your territory.”

Hester kicks a little against Lee’s chest and he hushes her without even noticing.

“You would claim everywhere as yours if you could, Wanderer,” Rather than debating the female bear’s point, Iorek does nothing further other than releasing her, lowering his paw but not going as far as stepping back, his point apparently made, “You have lost an eye since I saw you last.”

“While you seem to have gained yourself a tiny human and his even tinier daemon,” the other bear huffs as she rises, “They smell of you even more than that strange craft you arrived on.”

Lee’s heart takes it upon itself to stutter in his chest as Iorek’s dark-eyed gaze fixes upon him.

“I –” Lee’s well aware another person would likely protest the implication, but there’s something unaccountably appealing about it – about being identified as _Iorek’s_.

It’s probably best that he doesn’t examine that notion too much.

“So it seems,” Deserting the fish, Iorek insinuates his massive bulk between Lee, Hester and the female bear by means of stepping between them, his claim thus very clearly illustrated.

“ _Uh_ –” Despite his efforts to play it cool, Lee stutters as his face flares hot as anything, thankfully obscured as it is between his scarf and the brim of his hat.

“ _Uh_ –” Hester makes a little noise similarly down around the region of his chest.

“You are both well,” Iorek’s gaze on them is serious, his tone somewhere between a question and a promise.

“Most certainly,” Damn it, Lee’s jarringly reminded of exactly what he’d been up to before Hester’s sharp ears had identified the female bear’s presence, and the fact he could do with a bath or a bucket wash, at the very least. The thought that he smells of Iorek brings with it the creeping reminder of what else he must no doubt smell of –

And if Iorek were to for some reason sniff his hand again –

“ _Lee,_ ” Hester jabs a hindleg hard into his gut.

“ _Oof_ ,” Swaying back on his heels, Lee lets out a huff, entirely grateful for Hester’s timely interjection, “Damn it, rabbit!”

That gets her back up reassuringly, unlike before, “I’m a hare!”

“I have brought you more bloodmoss,” Kindly refraining from remarking upon their antics, Iorek eyes Lee’s coat-covered shoulder and opens his other forepaw, which turns out to have been carefully curled around a decent clump of the precious plant this entire time.

“ _Oh_ ,” A lump of emotion flies up inside Lee to clog his throat. Rather than merely taking a lunch break, Iorek must have gone to find the bloodmoss before catching that whopper of a fish – was that the very reason he’d gone so far off?

He’d taken it upon himself to collect the moss entirely as a kindness that first time too, hadn’t he, back in Novy Odense.

“Why, thank you,” For all it’s healing nicely, Lee’s shoulder throbs in appreciation at the thought of another application, as does his ear, “Thank you kindly.”

His voice emerges regrettably huskily with everything that he’s feeling.

“Your human promised me liquor with dinner,” Before Lee can get further than clearing his throat, the female bear breaks in to complain, “I believed presently.”

“Did he now?” There’s definitely amusement in Iorek’s tone as he eyeballs Lee, who finds a grin of his own doing its utmost to break out across his face.

“Hey now, there’s enough for all of us to wet our whistles,” He has to fervently hope there is. What counts as a good stash for a human might well prove only enough to line the throats of a couple of polar bears.

“That is a claim I must confess interest in,” To Lee’s pleasure there is an indisputable glint of curiosity in Iorek’s gaze.

“I’ll catch us a seal if you’ll share your fish,” The female bear approaches Iorek, waiting for the much larger bear to incline his head before reaching her own up to touch noses, something Iorek accepts with his usual grace.

That nose of his is –

Dang it, there’s something so gosh darned _cute_ about it, which is an adjective it’s entirely possible Iorek might not appreciate. Powerless not to smile a little at the thought nonetheless, Lee chomps down on his lip.

“Better get out your griddle, Lee,” Hester wriggles up out of his coat in the direction of his shoulder, refraining for once from all the other things she could say.

“And my good knife,” Grateful to her all over again, Lee casts a look at the great fish. It’s going to be something to cart across to the balloon all right. Best if he divides it in half first –

“I shall transport the fish,” Iorek declares graciously and plucks it up without any sign off effort whatsoever, leaving Lee to splutter the protest that he’s not _that_ tiny, thank you very much, much to the amusement of not only his daemon, but also the two panserbjørne.

\--

The sunset throws them a party that evening to go with their impromptu picnic about halfway down towards the shore, Iorek building them a neater campfire than Lee’s ever made out of an armful of wood taken from the collection he keeps on the balloon. Lee roasts up some vegetables he digs up out of a barrel, which the female bear seems to prefer more than Iorek, and they all share the fish.

It’s the best meal Lee’s had in over a month.

Leaning back once his belly’s full with the intention of admiring the pinks and purples painted just as prettily upon the surface of the calm water as they are overhead, he strives not to watch out of the corner of his eye as the female bear – still only identified as the Wanderer – presents Iorek with the promised seal, a portion of which he solemnly accepts.

“Leave them to it, Lee,” Hester quietly advises when his mind starts to meander down along the lines of how exactly the pair might have come to know each other in the past and what it’s possible that knowing might lead to, this time around.

“Both of them deserve the company if that’s what they choose,” Lee tips the bottle he’s been turning around in his hands up for another mouthful, seeking to wash away the feeling of something not as specific or sharp-edged as envy or jealousy – a little wistful loneliness, perhaps. 

He’s heading down the slippery slope towards drunkenness when Iorek finishes his form of dessert and ambles over to them, nodding to Hester when she sits up on her haunches in greeting.

“I had thought to wish you a good evening, but it looks as if there is no need,” That deep voice sends a shiver of sensation down the length of Lee’s back, while the touch of amusement in it raises a small answering smile of his own. There’s a hint of redness on Iorek’s muzzle he finds it unexpectedly hard to look away from.

“Here’s wishing a good evening to you too then, Iorek,” Tipping his hat, Lee proffers the bucket he’d set out for this very purpose, “Can we do something towards that by offering you a drink?”

Over by the last remaining scraps of dinner, the female polar bear is already making herself acquainted with the contents of the second bucket Lee had handed over to her earlier and has topped up more than once. They’re going to be well and truly out of liquor at the rate things are going sure enough, but he can’t say he minds in the slightest.

The fact Iorek has chosen to seek out his and Hester’s company over that of his fellow panserbjørn and seemingly without any real reason for it is –

Well, it’s something all right.

“With gratitude, yes,” Iorek bends his head to his own drink with every sign of appreciation. He casts an eye at where Lee’s warming his boots by the fire, “You are cold?”

“I’m fine,” It’s getting increasingly chilly as night gathers itself to settle in, but Lee will be damned before he admits it or peels himself up off the ground in a defeated search for his fur blankets. It’s nothing to the bone-rattling cold he and Hester have weathered in the past, which is in itself undoubtedly nothing to how it must be yet further north, even if he is starting to lose sensation in most of the rest of his body aside from his feet.

“Hmm,” Iorek seems to consider this answer lacking, given he shoots a look at Hester.

“There’s no telling him when he’s in this mood,” Hester informs him however Lee flaps a hand to hush her.

“ _I’m fine_ ,” he therefore feels he has to insist.

“Lee, stop being stubborn,” Hester shoots back, but Iorek is already moving, pushing up on all four paws to Lee’s barely concealed dismay –

Only to surprisingly position himself back down again, near enough now that Lee could easily burrow into him and be surrounded by soft white fur, Iorek’s mass providing an immediately effective windbreak along with the welcome addition of his body heat.

“There is no logic to suffering unnecessarily,” Iorek states almost gently, which –

All right, so it has Lee feeling like the ornery fool drink and inconvenient emotion have him acting as. All the alcohol in his system seems to rush to his head and also magnify, the noise he makes at the contact downright embarrassing, his body overriding his effort to repress it.

“I – I’m much obliged,” he gets out at least, intently conscious of the feeling of Iorek curling yet closer around him as Hester bounds up on his lap. Lee flails the hand not holding his current bottle unintentionally outwards, a fumbling directionless touch he succeeds in transforming into a clumsy pat.

“You’re –” What is he saying? Inadvisable confessions fill his mouth. “You’re a good friend.”

There, that’s acceptable. The truth, too.

“ _Partly_ the truth,” Hester’s correction is muffled by the dint of her nose being buried in her paws, at least.

“I believe you are intoxicated, Lee,” Iorek’s rumble this time sounds very like laughter. Lee gets to experience the wonderful vibration of it through the bear’s side, soaking into his own body and feeling like it reverberates in his bones. The panserbjørn turns his great head to snuffle at Lee’s hair, nudging back the brim of his hat, “But I appreciate the sentiment all the same, and return it.”

Affection for him swells up in Lee’s chest, twinned with something else, something – even drunk – he hesitates to name.

“A-ah –” Lee really needs to stop talking. The Wanderer is watching them from across the fire with evident curiosity and Hester has started all but kneading his legs. He limits himself to, “That means a lot, Iorek, I’ve got to say.”

Iorek’s mouth grazes Lee’s temple for a brief moment in a surely unintentional touch that has him repressing a shiver.

“It might be sensible for you to sleep,” The panserbjørn sounds pleased by the compliment if anything, to Lee’s whirling mind, and as reassuringly steady as ever, “I will aid you with applying the fresh bloodmoss to your injuries in the morning, if you require assistance. It can wait until then.”

“Yeah, I –” Lee isn’t at all inclined to get up and trudge back to the balloon to his cold, empty bed, but the silent look Hester gives him confirms this isn’t what Iorek’s offering. His alcohol-addled mind has him blurting, “Oh wait, cripes, you mean _sleep here with you_ –”

Lee has to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from spilling his enthusiasm about such a proposal.

“If you are able to rest as such, I am willing to provide what warmth I can,” Iorek inclines his head in agreement, jaw brushing Lee’s shoulder.

“I wouldn’t – I wouldn’t want to be so discourteous –” It’s not all that late in honesty, but the arctic days are short and all the gritty, restless energy Lee’s had pent up inside him for so very long has at last drained out of him, aided by that earlier orgasm and now the drink.

The feeling of Iorek’s body moving as he breathes is near hypnotising. Lee _could_ fall asleep like this, _wants_ to fall asleep like this, Hester caught between chiding him and curling herself up into a yet tighter ball on his thighs.

“It seems that this is my cue to make my farewells,” The sound of the female bear’s voice clues Lee in to the fact he’d near forgotten her presence. Winching his eyes open with no idea when they’d shut, he finds she’s approached them, a slender outline of a panserbjørn backlit by the guttering fire.

“Fare you well, Wanderer,” Iorek raises his head in acknowledgement, “I will speak of you again to my father should you return to Svalbard.”

“My paws still ache to take me elsewhere,” the Wanderer sends a look of longing up at the emerging stars, “Save your fine words for yourself, though I fear they may be lost to flames. It is highly evident you too have strayed from some of the ways of panserbjørne, for all you no doubt still consider yourself a traditionalist at heart.”

“Flames?” Lee and Hester unintentionally repeat in concerned unison as Iorek growls an objection low in his throat, a sound that’s even more remarkable as close to him as they are.

“Iorek?” Hester summons up her voice again faster than Lee, but their friend’s attention remains fixed on the other bear.

“We will not discuss this further at such a time,” The words are a warning to her.

“Sleep, little ones,” Blithely ignoring him, the female bear addresses Lee and Hester with no condescension in her tone, “I thank you for the liquor and company. You may stay on my land for as long as you wish, given Iorek Byrnison vouches for you.”

Iorek’s reply is certain, “I do.”

“I am well aware of that,” There’s humour in her answer, seemingly at his expense rather than theirs, and an amount of fondness too as the female bear readies herself to go, “Fare you well, child.”

“It has been no small amount of time since my youth,” For all Iorek may grumble, Lee feels him sigh and relax somewhat as he looks after the other bear.

“So all the young ones say,” the Wanderer snorts over her shoulder, and then she’s off, heading in the direction of the mountains.

“You realise there’s no hope of me nodding off now,” Lee remarks once a while has passed and Iorek’s ears have settled back down along with Hester’s. Rubbing a gloved hand over his face, he airs a belated theory a touch hesitantly in case he’s way off, “The, ah. Lady bear. She a relation to you?”

“My father’s sister,” Iorek harrumphs, “I have not seen her for approaching a decade, as I believe you would measure it. Regardless of the ways of our people, she has always gone where she will.”

“Ah,” It explains a lot about their behaviour – or seems to, as far as Lee can judge.

His attempt to ignore the warm bloom of something much like relief that unfurls in his stomach isn’t helped by Hester’s low-voiced chuckle.

“Lee here thought she was your wife,” She’s always got to throw him in it.

“I did not,” Lee hadn’t, not exactly. All the alcohol muddling his brain refuses to allow him to come up with a way to explain what he _had_ thought while keeping from making even more of a fool of himself.

Iorek inclines his head to blink at them, “Matrimony is a human concept.”

“Not a – not a panser – panserborn thing, right,” Lee’s not –

He’s not sure what he’s not, in truth, except still unfortunately hampered by his accent and more drunk than he should be, and increasingly aware of how grimy he is. There’s a feeling building inside him though, like he needs to escape this conversation least he – he –

“If you’ll excuse me,” His body seeks to roll upwards before his mind can point out the idiocy of it, “Need to clear my head and, hah. Get cleaned up.”

The world sways dramatically.

“C-crikey,” Rather than catching his coat like back in Novy Odense, Iorek props him back up by means of applying his nose to Lee’s shoulder. Lee fumbles a bit, hand glancing unintentionally off a strong foreleg, “I – I’m sorry, Iorek. I do apologise.” He casts about, “Right, I’ve got to –”

“Lee, you’ll break your head if you go for a swim now,” Having tumbled off his lap, Hester’s jumping in agitation at his heels, pulled along when he takes a step towards the water.

“Walk with me back to your craft, sleep and cleanse yourself on the morrow,” Scooping stones and earth tight down over the last glowing embers of their fire, Iorek advises in a tone that brooks no argument.

“I guess I can’t deny that’s the sensible option,” Scratching his head under his hat, Lee gives in, swivelling carefully on his heels in order to stumble back towards the balloon, abashed and heartily cursing himself. There’s no way he’ll convince Iorek to curl up again with him now, is there, not when the panserbjørn’s established his own area within the gondola and the presence of Lee’s blankets will deny him the excuse.

Darting a look at Iorek in the gathering dusk, taking in the way ivory-coloured fur looks in brightening starlight and the last dregs of the sun, Lee drags an unsteady breath in before forcing his gaze away again with an effort.

Aching with a feeling swelling ever closer to the surface that’s very much like yearning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A story is told and a new experience had, and there's no alcohol to provide an excuse for what becomes apparent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some AU backstory for Lee here, plus a touch more for panserbjørne culture.
> 
> A mild trigger warning for mentions of largely non-detailed past domestic/child abuse.
> 
> (Update 17/04: slightly edited)

The tail end of a sunrise fit to rival any they saw back in Texas is sketching itself out in fiery reds across the arctic sky when Hester sits up straighter over on the rail of the gondola.

“Someone’s on their way back,” is her accompanying comment.

It’s undeniable who that someone is, even as it’s equally undeniable Lee’s heart pitter-patters as a result.

He’s a little nervous for reasons he can’t fathom, but it’s in a way that also feels oddly anticipatory. Last night’s admittedly hazy in places, the kind of fuzziness of memory that comes predictably with too much drinking, but Lee’s confident neither Hester nor Iorek would have let him do anything too inadvisable.

“Now don’t tell me it’s our new friend back for more liquor, because we’re clean out,” Lee teases lightly, even as he spares a wince for the lingering ache in his head at the thought of more alcohol.

He’s nowhere near as bad off as he could be, thanks to a decent sleep and a good scrub – but waking to discover his canteen positioned carefully close to his nest of blankets had been just the thing needed for a grand start to the day. It had been filled with the coldest, sweetest, best tasting water Lee’s ever had the pleasure to drink, chasing out much of the thump of hangover from his skull and the furry sourness from his mouth.

He’s still smiling a bit when he recalls it now.

“I reckon the Wanderer is already somewhere far off,” Hester says what they both suspect. With an ear still trained on the world outside, she glances over at Lee, “Why’d you think she whopped him like that?”

“Maybe that’s just how panser – panserborne –” Damn it. “Polar bears say ‘hello’ to one another,” Unearthing a fresh shirt to pull on over his undervest while he crowds close to the little stove he’s got going for both coffee and what warmth it gives off, Lee rolls his shoulder with a rueful chuckle and a faint wince at both his pronunciation and the protest his upper body puts up in response to the tug.

The thought of Iorek helping with that fresh application of bloodmoss is –

“Panserbjørne,” Hester proudly states, her pronunciation as close to perfect as Lee’s willing to admit.

“Now Hester,” Lee has to straighten up indignantly, even if he’s a little grateful for the interruption in truth, “That’s just unfair.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t manage it,” Is the total amount of sympathy Hester has for him, “Now are you going to finish putting your trousers on or are you planning to say good morning to Iorek like that?”

“Ah – dang it, rabbit, you were supposed to give me a warning!” His ears prickling with heat, Lee hurries to fasten them up with hands gone somewhat clumsy.

Gosh darn it, but why _is_ he so wound up at the thought of –

“ _I did_ ,” At her very driest, Hester turns away from him, adjusting her balance on her perch at the tell-tale sway of the gondola that marks a certain polar bear’s arrival, her ears going up in welcome, “Good morning, Iorek.”

“A good morning to you too, Hester,” Climbing far more gracefully than one might expect over the side, Iorek lands neatly on all four paws and pauses to incline his head to them both, “Lee.”

Glancing up from hastily buckling his belt, the greeting rising on the tip of Lee’s tongue turns into a mortifyingly inarticulate, “ _Guh_.”

He near enough swallows his tongue. Because _damn_ –

The first of the day’s bright sunshine is gleaming on the white of the polar bear’s coat, turning it into something almost dazzling. Every inch of Iorek is spick and span, just a little leftover damp from the ocean; clean and freshly groomed from his nose to the tip of his tail. Those dark eyes of his calm and thoughtful as ever, yet sparking with good humour, the panserbjørn openly pleased to see them both.

Lee can’t look away.

All his thoughts from yesterday flood back to him about Iorek being the equivalent of royalty; about the fact that the panserbjørn is a _prince_ and very likely next in line to rule over Svalbard at that, and –

And none of that’s important, not really.

Not unless Iorek brings it up himself – which, going by his warning to the Wanderer, it seems he might well not. Lee certainly shouldn’t be wildly curious, as such – the bear’s got a right to his privacy and it’s not his place to pry.

But still, he wants –

“Cat got your tongue, Lee?” Choosing to save him from himself for once, Hester hops down nimbly next to the panserbjørn.

“H-heh,” Swallowing thickly, Lee awards himself a firm mental shake. Given his hat is currently not on his head, he touches his fingers briefly to his forehead, miming a dip of the brim, “Begging your pardon, Iorek, and as I was intending to say, good morning. I hope you don’t mind my observing that you’re looking –”

_Mighty fine –_

“Clean as a whistle, and that’s no lie,” It really isn’t. It’s just also nothing close to all the words crowding Lee’s mouth, demanding to be said. He forges on regardless, “You’ve got my thanks for the water; that was a real kindness.”

“You are welcome,” Iorek’s perched on his haunches where he landed, his dark eyes deep and rich and still glittering in all that sunshine, and his steadiness does much to ease Lee’s rattled nerves, “If I have arrived at an inopportune time, I will let you be.”

“No, it’s fine,” Lee’s chafing his arms without realising it despite the fact he’s nigh affixed to the little stove, still clad in his shirt sleeves as he is. His coat slung over his shoulders is only doing so much and it’s tempting to use the cold as an explanation for that jittery feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Then, if you will permit me,” Iorek opens a forepaw to reveal the bloodmoss, not looking any worse for wear for the wait.

Swallowing a gulp of coffee, Lee doesn’t quite dare glance over at Hester as he nods, “I’d – ah, I’d be much obliged.”

He really is shivering from the cold moments later, when he’s shucked the top half of his clothes off, keeping them bundled up on his lap for what warmth that gives, and Hester is tucked in amongst them, up against his chest.

“I apologise for the discomfort,” There is a note of concern in Iorek’s voice as he works patiently alongside Lee’s fumbling fingers to unpeel the adhesive tape holding the old bloodmoss to his shoulder, “Your ear is healing well.”

“ _Hah_ ,” Lee can’t help but shoot Hester a triumphant look, to which she casts her gaze to the heavens, “And _somebody_ cast such aspersions.”

“That still doesn’t mean it’s looking any prettier, Lee,” She shifts against him in a poor pretence at threatening to kick.

“It is true the bloodmoss cannot return it to its original shape, yes,” Iorek sounds caught between bafflement and mild amusement at their banter.

Turning his head slightly to see the polar bear, Lee catches sight of Iorek eyeing the ear under discussion a little quizzically, even as the bear removes the old bloodmoss from the bullet’s entry and exit points in Lee’s shoulder so skilfully he hardly feels a thing.

This isn’t something that’s come up in conversation with anyone other than Hester, but it doesn’t seem right to deny Iorek an explanation.

“Lee’s old man used to always get the one on the right,” Hester gets there first on his behalf, her body going a little rigid with her feelings on the topic.

“Learned to turn my head real quick, but he got me good a fair few times first,” Tearing off a few strips of adhesive tape and passing them over to Iorek with murmured thanks, Lee runs a hand down his daemon’s back under their bundle of clothing, feeling a faint tremble run through her small frame.

“He struck you,” It isn’t a question; Iorek’s voice a deeper rumble and more serious than ever. His massive forepaw but a whisper against the side of Lee’s spine as he binds the wound up afresh.

“Yeah, sometimes,” It had been a long time ago. Still the memories make Lee run his other hand over his whiskers, subconsciously half-hiding his mouth, “Had the habit of making me and Hester target practice when I was a kid, whenever he’d gambled away something he shouldn’t or got it in his head my mother was slow in making him dinner, or whatever other excuse he came up with. Better me than Ma in my opinion, even if I never could forgive him for going after Hester, but –”

The panserbjørn’s gone notably quiet behind them.

“Anyway,” Lee aims a glance down at Hester and finds her looking right back up at him; has to lean forwards over her to scoop up his mug and take a slug of the dregs, “Some things are better left in the past and that’s one of them. We just – always used to joke that my left ear was the pretty one.”

Shrugging a little helplessly, Lee gives Hester’s left ear a corresponding gentle tug, unable to deny a touch of awkwardness in the wake of that old story and Iorek’s consequent silence, a shiver chasing over his skin as he abruptly recalls the claw of the arctic cold.

“Lee,” Hester huddles back in against him as soon as he’s hastened part of the way back into his clothes.

“It’s all right, gal,” Even as he strokes her, Lee’s other fingers drift for a second over the neat edges of the tape that mark Iorek’s precise handiwork, before he makes himself drop his hand, “You have my thanks for the patching up, Iorek.”

“I am glad to have been of assistance,” Iorek doesn’t leave them wondering at his reaction for long, padding around to face the pair as Lee starts on his buttons, the panserbjørn’s dark eyes switching between hare and man, lingering a little on Lee’s shoulder and ears.

His expression is difficult to interpret, but Lee’s definite a fair old portion of it is troubled.

“You can ask whatever you want to of us,” Hester pokes her nose up to offer the panserbjørn, “Including about what this one here just said.” The prod she gives Lee with her hindleg is so expected Lee doesn’t even twitch.

“I appreciate it,” Inclining his head to her solemnly, Iorek’s own nose comes close enough to Hester’s that Lee’s stomach tightens, his hands falling lax, buttons forgotten half done.

“I-Iorek,” Gazing up at the huge polar bear so very near to her, Hester downright quivers.

“N-now Hester,” Lee can _feel_ her considering stretching up to bridge that gap between herself and the great bear, and this –

This is something Hester’s _never_ been tempted to do with any other human or fellow daemon, just as Lee’s never had the inclination to ponder the possibility himself likewise.

A _disinclination_ to contemplate it, in honesty, given his little arctic hare has only ever felt the touch of two other hands in addition to Lee’s own – those of that old bastard his father’s, and the harsh grip around Hester’s neck back in the warehouse in Novy Odense.

“Hah –” Lee has to swallow a shudder, feeling Hester do the same. Not so much at the unwelcome recollection, but –

But. He wants her to do it. An alarmingly large part of Lee _wants_ Hester to touch Iorek, just as he wants – very much – for Iorek to touch her in return.

Keeping his mouth from informing the panserbjørn about this is one of the most difficult things Lee’s done in a long time.

“I must apologise, Lee, Hester,” Iorek draws back after a few suspended seconds both man and hare feel every moment of, “For seeking to further discuss a painful topic. I am no expert in the ways of humans and find I cannot understand how –”

It’s exceedingly rare to hear him falter.

“Mm?” Lee has to struggle to clear his throat.

“To hear the pair of you were so mistreated –” A growl reverberating like thunder in his throat, Iorek shakes his head as if seeking to slough off the tightness that enters his voice, “I would like to think I am correct in the supposition that a human father would not typically treat his spouse or progeny so dishonourably.”

“I would – like to think so, yeah,” Chewing the inside of his cheek, Lee ducks his head in a nod.

“I am aware of the falsehoods held as common belief about my people by the citizens of Novy Odense and, as I have experienced, elsewhere,” Iorek continues, “But while it is natural for panserbjørne to use appropriate amounts of physical force such as when settling disputes between adults, one would not attack another baselessly – and never a lover or cub. It is unthinkable.”

Given all the poisonous slander he had heard in that town, Lee can only grimace in regret at the confirmation Iorek has encountered such prejudice more widely spread, and at the implications his friend refrains from detailing.

“Every time I hear more of what panserbyorne –” He _so_ nearly gets it this time, but that’s not what matters right now, “When I hear what your people have to put up with from us damn fool humans, it makes me so darn infuriated, I’ve got to admit.”

“Hmph,” Straightening, Iorek makes a sound of negation at once, “For all I referred to you previously as a _foolish aeronaut_ –” The way he says it is just as thoroughly unlike an insult as it was the first time around, “I would prefer it if you did not include yourself in such an assessment, Lee.”

“I – why thank you,” A huge complicated knot of emotions tangling in his chest, Lee finds he’s reaching out before he knows quite what he’s up to; even though he should be doing something sensible like finishing fixing his shirt. His fingers whisper through the short hairs to the side of Iorek’s muzzle, a fraction off properly making contact, just – extending the offer. He –

He just _wants_ –

“Lee,” Half expecting the panserbjørn to draw back, Lee’s gratified almost beyond bearing when Iorek instead huffs and completes the touch, leaning into his hand.

“Yeah?” He can’t drag his gaze away from the fur tickling his palm.

“May I ask where your father is now,” This has the tone of something Iorek’s been wondering for some time.

There’s a certain hardness to it that makes Lee unable to deny the sneaking suspicion that, were he to say the old man were somewhere in this part of the world, Iorek might just find himself inclined to go and exchange words on his behalf. And while Lee’s never sought out others to fight his battles for him or defend his honour, the thought is still –

Well, it brings heat to his face and increases the flutter in his stomach, whether it should do or not.

“Hopped the last rattler a while back,” While Lee’s voice comes out a bit huskily, it’s not at all due to the topic. Something prompts him to keep speaking all the same, feeling it only fair to properly finish the story, “Died half a dozen years ago or so now, when I’d become a dab hand at kicking him out of the house – swung his fists at someone larger than me for once and less forgiving to boot, and got himself shot for the trouble.” He lets his fingers curve just a little more firmly against Iorek’s jaw, “Dug the grave myself and tipped him in it; got me and Ma a drink after, and never looked back.”

Not until his mother had died of illness herself around a year later, but that’s not something any of them need to go into now.

“You fought him,” There’s neither commendation nor condemnation in Iorek’s enquiry.

“Hated every moment of it even when I was big enough not to get knocked right back down, but yes,” Lee’s not about to lie to him, “I’m more than willing to stand up for what’s right, Iorek, but – I hold it that a person should be able to choose whether to make a stand, and not be forced into it.”

He’s been put in that position too many times himself and witnessed more than one desperate struggle – like the death of poor little Jimmy Partlett – with such uneven odds to feel anything else.

“That’s for sure,” Hester’s forepaws knead his knees as Lee tucks his free hand around her to ground himself.

“You have both more than proven yourselves on many an occasion in the time I have known you,” Iorek dips his muzzle to include the little hare in the statement, the action causing Lee’s hand to slip higher up onto the panserbjørn’s cheek and that much deeper into soft fur.

“That’s a mighty kind thing of you to say,” His fingers are buried in it now, disrupting the fall of the gleaming white strands to reveal the darkness hidden there underneath, the feeling of warm skin against his own snatching the breath right out of Lee’s lungs and squeezing his heart both at once, “Iorek –”

He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to ask, busy pushing down a powerful urge building inside him, one that’s tempting him to tip forwards off his crate and wind his arms around that strong neck, and bow his head in against his friend.

“It is not a kindness, but simply the truth,” Iorek heaves out a breath, the force of it gusting over Lee’s bare wrist and on up his arm to make him shiver all over again, “There are panserbjørne who speak ill about humans; I have heard untruths about your people in return. On leaving the land of my father, I determined to view those I might encounter through unbiased eyes regardless of species, and upon meeting the Lieutenant Haughland, I believed I was correct in withholding judgement.”

“Yeah, he’s a good man,” Already aware of Iorek’s high opinion of the officer, there is no reason for Lee’s insides to twist a bit in –

Shoot, it’s ridiculous and downright pathetic for him to feel a stir of – of something shamefully close to _jealousy_ about someone he knows full well deserves such esteem.

Lee’s not a jealous person by nature, not one to resent or covet. So why –

“However Lee,” Iorek is still speaking and Lee gives himself his second vigorous mental shake of the day, “It was only upon meeting yourself and Hester that I _knew_ I was right.”

The panserbjørn is leaning yet nearer or Lee is – or the both of them are – Hester making a soft sound before squeezing out under Lee’s elbow to hop onto the corner of the crate. Lee grasps blindly after her with the hand not touching Iorek, unwilling to let her get far, but she doesn’t try to, tucking herself in against his side and attentively watching them both. 

“Why that’s –” Lee’s close to losing control over the filter he’s adamantly placed on his mouth, his brain functioning somewhat slower as a result. Caught up in all of that tangle of feelings still prickling at his ribs, his belly full of something like – like –

Like something it would no doubt be better he doesn’t keep thinking on.

“Just what notion is going through your head right now, Lee?” Hester asks quietly as Lee dares to feather his fingers through that white fur he’s touching, stroking the soft strands just lightly, biting down hard on his lip.

“Nothing sensible,” Looking up to find Iorek’s dark eyes intent on his face, Lee’s fingers startle a bit, as does the rest of him.

“Now ain’t that the truth,” For all her attempt at levelheadedness, Hester sounds just as breathless as Lee feels.

“Mm,” The rumble low in Iorek’s chest is considering, if anything, just as is his gaze as he nudges his head a bit against Lee’s touch.

“Is this – all right with you, Iorek?” Lee is therefore obliged to ask. Because if he’s reading the polar bear wrong and Iorek’s just enduring it –

There’s a nagging in the back of Lee’s mind like he might be forgetting something, like there’s a recollection there attempting to rise through the fog of yesterday’s drinking. Had –

Had he touched Iorek then too? Hester would have ensured he kept his hands to himself, wouldn’t she, although –

Although aside from her query, she’s sure not stopping him now.

Thinking of her touching their panserbjørn friend as well makes the party Lee’s belly is throwing spread warmth out through his midriff, spilling down into his pelvis and that’s –

Lee has to resist the need to shift on his crate.

“It is not objectionable,” Iorek is saying, which is a darn sight less enthusiastic than Lee was fervently hoping for, although he then follows it up with, “It is not objectionable at all. In fact –” 

Massive forepaws kneading the floor of the gondola a little in a way highly reminiscent of Hester, Iorek lowers his head in a clear sign of encouragement.

“Here?” Lee’s fingers delve behind an ear, that heart of his feeling like it’s about to thump its way clear out of his chest.

“Yes,” Iorek sways forwards again when he rubs, the ear in question twitching madly, and a faint laugh of relief and – and something almost giddy – sweeps through Lee as a result.

“You like it?” pops out of his mouth, as Iorek makes a low noise that’s almost a purr.

“ _Yes_. Lee –” He’s so close now Lee’s practically cradling that great head in his lap, and that’s –

Iorek’s so much larger than him and so powerful, everything about him so strong and impressive, and yet –

Lee scratches harder, completely powerless to prevent the grin that breaks out on his face when Iorek snorts and shakes his head seemingly involuntarily before pressing right on back into the touch, rumbling in a way that’s nothing to do with complaint.

“No human has ever touched me like this before,” This isn’t a protest either. Humming, Hester adjusts herself until she’s a whisper away from the paw Iorek lifts to rest against the side of the crate, his claws gently scraping the wood. 

“N-no?” Lee has no chance whatsoever at stopping the thrill of excitement that shoots through him at the thought. Damn, but he wants to run both hands all over as much of the panserbjørn as Iorek will permit; wants to clutch at him and –

And cling to him as he slides off the crate until he’s sprawled under his friend, and –

“ _Lee_ ,” Hester’s interruption would go unheard, except for the fact she suddenly pushes up on her hindlegs and hisses in his ear as demandingly as she can.

“Not now Hester, I –” Immensely distracted as he is, Lee has to forcibly drag his thoughts back, “W-what?”

“Need to cool your head fast,” Hester’s small paws dig into his shoulder through his still half-undone clothes, demanding he pay attention.

“Oh shoot –” Lee belatedly registers what he probably should have noticed no small while ago, which is that a certain part of his body has decided to get in on all the need and adrenalin running through him, reacting predictably to the hot fire in his belly and the shivers of sensation chasing through his veins.

Put frankly, he’s as hard as he’s ever been, his cock straining against his trousers fit to burst, and that’s –

_Fuck_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation is started, a kindness done, and a new element added to all of Lee's yearning, while his fingers end up somewhere they probably should not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay in updating! Thanks so much to everyone who has liked and/or commented on previous chaps :) This is essentially the first half of a chapter, divided in two for the length's sake.

His breath catches hard.

A strangled noise seeks to escape Lee along with this, though he thankfully manages to catch it behind his lips. All he can think of – all he can feel – is just how immensely aroused he is, his mind stalling on the heady hardness and heaviness of his cock as it presses urgently against the sturdy buttons fastening his trousers, intent on curving up further to point at his belly, thwarted by the fit and folds of the thick fabric.

In this suspended instant, he clearly feels the pound of his heart echoed in his cock’s throb and jerk. He’s leaking, damn it, and there’s that ache in his guts – the bone-deep need to fuck or be fucked, or at the very least resort to the rough grip of his own fingers and a firm tug. His nipples pebbling beneath his still partly undone shirt; a restless shiver chasing over his skin.

Buried in soft white fur, his fingers tellingly twitch.

“Lee?” Iorek, of course, picks up on this last part. His black eyes scan Lee’s face even as his own expression returns to its usual solemnity coloured with both chagrin and concern, “You have grown chilled once more. It was unwise of me to cause such distraction and, in doing so, risk your health.”

He starts to withdraw.

“No, it’s – you don’t have to –” His brain entirely stuck on the state of his cock, Lee’s tongue trips all over itself at the same time as his tingling hands instinctively go to give chase, “It wasn’t your fault; I should have done up those buttons –”

“What are you even saying, Lee?” This is Hester’s idea of a helpful mutter.

And yeah, Lee’s usually far better at talking his way out of an awkward situation than this. He’s been caught a number of times with his trousers around his ankles – not just metaphorically – and only had to escape out of a convenient window on a couple of them, on each occasion ending up with his hat on and his dignity intact by the time his feet hit the ground.

“So you like to tell yourself, anyway,” Hester sniffs when Lee’s done up his waistcoat and necktie, smoothed his scarf over them, and reminded her of this fact, while Iorek considers the little stove.

“If I may?” He looks back in askance at Lee.

“Undoubtedly,” The offer for Iorek to _help himself_ hovers on the tip of Lee’s tongue, hastily edited on Hester’s pre-emptive kick.

“Don’t you even start thinking about suggesting he can help himself to _anything else_ ,” Her hiss is fierce, her tone making specification unnecessary.

“I’ll have you know it would have been a perfectly innocent turn of phrase,” Lee has to protest while simultaneously gesturing furtively for her to hush, lowering his voice to a hiss, “Thank you kindly for putting that idea in my mind, Hester.”

Because of course now he damn well _is_ thinking about it –

Although he already was, in honesty, not that he’s about to admit as much. Powerless not to think about how Iorek had had his great head all but on Lee’s lap; of how his hands had slid through all that fur, Iorek practically melting against him as he scratched, and –

If Iorek had nudged him even just gently, he could have toppled Lee right off his crate with ease; put him effortlessly on his back. Lee could have slipped off it himself like he’d been so tempted to; could have done his utmost to wrap his arms and legs around his friend, and ground his hips up –

“ _Hah_ ,” Such imaginings really aren’t helpful. Shifting as subtly as possible in the attempt to ease the pressure of his trousers on his persistently rigid cock, Lee swallows a grimace. 

“You’ve _always_ got to think with that,” Sniffing, his little daemon jabs a vindictive forepaw close enough to the relevant area to make him jump, “As if _I’m_ the one responsible here. You know full well I’m just telling it like it is.”

“Yeah I know, I know,” Giving himself a stern mental scolding, Lee strokes between her ears in apology as he seeks to remind himself that not only is it downright ungentlemanly of him to be having such thoughts about a good friend – let alone one currently right in front of him and of a different species to boot – but that crucially Iorek has also given no indication he’d be either amenable or interested in such a thing.

“I’d ask if you’re sure about that, but it wouldn’t be helpful,” Hester observes, which isn’t at all helpful in itself either, and then hops down neatly, abandoning Lee and his racing mind in favour of crossing over to the panserbjørn’s side.

“Iorek, if you don’t mind my asking, that one winding himself up in knots over there is wondering about the extent of any interest you may have in humans and their many foibles,” She downright goes and enquires as blithe as anything.

“ _Hester!_ ” Lee just about chokes. Has to slap a hand to his face as well, fingers dragging down over his still overgrown whiskers.

“Indeed?” After a questioning glance over at the man and quite possibly realising that Lee is close to expiring of mortification, Iorek proves himself kind enough to direct his attention onto seeing the old tin kettle through to boiling on the little stove, “As my father’s sister observed, I have come to prove myself an outlier amongst my people in a certain sense. Still, I cannot deny that a reasonable amount of my interaction with humans has been driven by necessity, such as in Novy Odense.”

“I can’t say I blame you for it and nor would anyone sensible,” However open-minded the polar bear might be, considering the reception the inhabitants of such a place gave him and his fellow panserbjørne, why _would_ Iorek want to associate himself with humankind any more than he was required to?

Lee’s not disappointed. He’s not, he’s _not_ , he’s just –

The kettle interrupts the conversation most effectively with its whistle, before he has any chance of convincing himself of the truth of this assertion.

“If you will excuse me a moment,” Iorek demonstrates his impressive dexterity in manipulating the small device, an opposable thumb turning off the heat on the stove with careful precision before he lifts the kettle by its curved handle with one massive paw.

While it’s never occurred to Lee that he would get to witness Iorek preparing him coffee, this is exactly what the panserbjørn proceeds to do, the task not something that would come naturally to his species and yet one Iorek completes with his usual steady grace and poise.

“Damn,” Hester’s murmur is low, but just as dang impressed as Lee feels, “He’s spoiling you rotten, Lee.”

A flush has already spread itself over Lee’s face; he can only manage a croak.

“I’m greatly obliged, Iorek; thank you sincerely,” He does succeed in summoning his voice up with some effort however, when Iorek carefully passes the mug over to hands shaking a little despite Lee’s efforts to hold them steady, his heart thumping fit to burst. All he can do then is blow on the steaming liquid in the attempt to not further respond to how close his friend is once again, and strive not to drop the hot drink in his lap.

At least that thought goes a fair way towards softening his cock.

“Mm,” A sip settles Lee some, as does Hester nudging in under his elbow, and so he takes another gratefully, helpless not to shed a fraction of his tension at the warmth. The coffee tastes _good_ and not only due to the knowledge of who made it for him, although he can’t deny that’s a definite element of it.

He’s darn well warmed by that more than anything else, in truth.

“I’ve got to say it pains me there’s not much I can offer you in return,” Intently aware of Iorek watching him drink, Lee rubs a palm on the outside of his thigh through his coat in the attempt to dispel more of the relentless energy running through him – if his dick would just get on and finish controlling itself, he’d have been up and moving about long ago.

There’s a voice in the back of his head pointing out that Lee could offer Iorek _himself_ and that’s –

Well, that’s just darned inappropriate as well as uncalled for.

“You could do me the favour of allowing me to once more provide you with what additional warmth I can,” So said, Iorek proceeds to position himself closer in a way that brings a lump to Lee’s throat and adds a new thread of tension to the fire already in his belly, yet does absolutely nothing to aid him with everything he’s doing utmost to repress, as well as nagging at his alcohol-fogged memory of the previous night.

Had – Had something similar happened then?

Struck by the impression of nestling into the thickest, softest fur he’s ever felt and not quite daring to do as much now, Lee drags the brim of his hat down over his eyes. If such a thing had happened, how the hell could he have been such a fool as to _forget_?

“You are still shivering, my friend,” Iorek’s voice is softer than usual with mounting concern, yet deep as ever, rumbling right through Lee despite that bit of space left between them, feeling like it soaks through him straight into his bones, “It would not do to fall unwell in this climate.”

“I’m just – I’ll be quite all right shortly, I’m sure,” Cursing himself, Lee hides a wince at the deflection.

“It would be wise to ensure that is the case,” This gets Iorek curving around him properly as a result –

“ _Mm_ ,” The feel of it, of being surrounded by the much larger body of his friend, only makes Lee shiver harder and he has to close his eyes against it, lest all the feelings assaulting him flood out unchecked. Arousal stampedes through him, his troublesome cock regaining much of the hardness it had lost, and Lee can’t take it, he can’t take it, he –

He can and he will.

He’s going to get a bloody hold of himself, that’s what he is, and _not_ the kind of hold his dick is hankering after. Lee’s let it have its way a fair old number of times in the past – Hester’s observations haven’t been wrong – but taking advantage of a friend’s generosity is never on. He has to admit to some surprise she isn’t giving him a good kick for it already to boot.

One glance at his little daemon provides the answer for this.

Hester’s eyes are closed, her small body hunkered down on his knees – she’s feeling everything he’s feeling, just as he can feel her tumultuous emotions in the back of his own mind. Can feel her longing to bridge that gap between them just like she so nearly did before; to nestle into the panserbjørn all but surrounding them. To sniff at Iorek and bound around him, and roll belly up in front of him while he leans down towards her; to touch his fur as he touches hers –

Lee pulls his thoughts back away from their bond with a wrench.

“I do apologise for all this,” Clearing his throat, he bites down on the inside of his cheek, managing to normalise his voice enough for it to at least be passable, “I can only hope you feel no obligation, Iorek; I swear I’m usually far more capable when it comes to such things.”

What things, precisely, is probably best left unsaid.

“More like occasionally capable,” With only a touch of her usual dry sarcasm, Hester partially opens an eye. Stirring herself, she angles herself up against Lee’s side, tucking her head under his chin, and so he runs his hand over her ears and down the curve of her back, endeavouring to channel their shared longing for their friend into stroking her instead.

“There is no need for you to apologise and nor do I consider it in any sense an obligation,” Iorek is seated at such an angle that he can curl in somewhat over Lee’s side to nudge his head lightly but meaningfully against the hand holding the mug until Lee remembers his remaining coffee and takes another warming drink, “As we have discussed previously, you are a good man, Lee, and a good friend. While I do not doubt your capability, it is my privilege to do whatever I can to assist.”

“ _I-Iorek_ –” For all his most recent progress, Lee loses a fair amount of the fight he’s been having with himself just like that.

Turning blindly to set his emptied mug down wherever, he gropes at the panserbjørn until Iorek obligingly lowers his head so Lee can rest his forehead against the polar bear’s much larger brow, Hester squirming down off his lap to make room for them to do so. His heart feeling like it’s too big for his ribs, battering away at them until it feels fit to burst.

_Damn, but I want to kiss you –_

_I want you to kiss me –_

Lee can’t say it.

Can’t even let himself think it, really, although he has to admit if only to himself an amount of uncertainty over whether they even _could –_ as well as the matter of size, their mouths are shaped just so plain differently. But he’s never had anyone say such things to him with such straightforward sincerity, just as he’s never had anyone he’s felt so drawn to so deeply, in truth, and this new yearning rocks straight through him with the force of sudden revelation, piercing him to the core.

“To resume our previous conversation,” Iorek nuzzles a little against Lee’s temple, an action Lee feels throughout his entire body, “There is a distinction I believe I should express. Whilst I cannot say I have entertained specific curiosity regarding the majority of humans I encountered in settlements such as Novy Odense, I must admit I possess a great deal of interest concerning Hester and yourself.”

“T-truly?” The noise Lee makes at this is not in any sense approaching neutral, his voice cracking abysmally. His fingers spasm just as traitorously as earlier and he has to force back something far too close to a groan of protest when Iorek shifts back so they can look at each other properly. Moderating his response takes some doing indeed, “Because I’m, uh. I’m real curious about you too.”

“Now that’s an understatement for sure,” Hester’s mutter is thankfully mostly lost somewhere around Lee’s ankles.

The light glimmering in Iorek’s dark eyes effectively snatches his breath right out of his chest.

“Given our friendship and our differing backgrounds as well as species, I believe it is only understandable on both our parts,” The panserbjørn glances from man to arctic hare and then back again, Hester sitting poised with her back straight between Iorek’s forepaws and Lee’s booted feet, looking up at the pair of them motionlessly except for a fine quiver to her ears, “I am content to answer what questions you may put to me.”

“You first,” This comes out as a whisper. Lee licks his dry lips and lets himself reach out as he did before, just an offer, “What. What is it you’re curious about?”

“Many things, including your foibles,” There’s a smile, he’s certain, in Iorek’s voice, and he obliges Lee easily by leaning in so questing fingers slide into the fur lining his cheek, “For a start, while I have no expectation of answer and am aware that there may be topics you do not wish to discuss, I would be glad to learn over time of any detail you might care to impart regarding yourself and Hester, the bond between you and your aspirations and history, such as the decisions that led you into becoming an aeronaut.”

“A-ah I can’t rightly say that was a decision exactly, at least not to start with,” Admitting this before Hester can for him, Lee scratches slightly, then harder when Iorek angles his head closer to his fingers, “I won us this here balloon in a card game.”

He has to seek to swallow his feelings, because – is that it? It’s impossible to pretend he hadn’t been fervently hoping for something a touch more personal.

Alhough Iorek had said _for a start._

“It takes little to observe that the pair of you appear to thrive on such an existence, when those such as the Lieutenant Haughland or the Captain van Breda would likely not,” Iorek tilts his head, Lee’s fingers consequently shifting down to his jaw, the panserbjørn not moving far enough to break the contact, “And yet I have had occasion to observe that humans appear to be social creatures who seek the company of others to an extent that panserbjørne do not. The speed of your craft leads me to infer that travelling might well require long periods of isolation unless transporting passengers such as myself and, while I do not wish to speculate, I cannot help but wonder if perhaps this might at times be difficult for yourself.”

“You’re not just a _passenger_ ,” Both Lee and Hester have to protest. And –

“It’s just fine for the most part,” Lee grimaces a bit, remembering that long old month alone before Novy Odense, though his mouth crooks itself into a smile right after for the panserbjørn, “But I’ve got to say it’s definitely preferable with the company.”

“You mean with _present_ company,” Hester puts in pointedly, “Because we’ve had some passengers in the past we’d have gladly tossed out of the gondola mid-flight.”

“Yes, we all appreciate you clarifying that, Hester,” Lee tugs her ear chidingly even as he chews his lip at the telling heat that rushes anew up his neck to his cheeks as a result of her comment, both relieved and gratified when Iorek lets out a snort very much like a laugh.

“I for one am grateful to hear it,” There’s an amused glint in his eye, plain as anything, “Although should my presence come to prove unwelcome, I fear you may find it difficult to enact such a plan.”

“ _Never_. Iorek, you’d never be unwelcome here with us; you’ve got to know that,” The assertion trips out of Lee’s mouth before he has any chance of stopping it, however well aware he is of – and delighted by – the fact they’re being teased, his fingers taking it upon themselves to dip down over Iorek’s impressive jawbone to his throat.

Starting a little at the realisation of what he’s just done and aware of the line it _undoubtedly_ crosses, Lee goes to pull back, an apology readying itself on the tip of his tongue for the transgression.

“No, you can –” Iorek startles him by shifting after the receding touch, much as Lee’s hands reached out earlier in chase of white fur; an action that’s apparently unintentional for the polar bear then quite clearly halts himself.

They blink at each other for a moment.

“You, ah,” Lee’s fingers are tingling all over again. He can _feel_ Iorek breathing, as well as see it; feels his own breath start to come in tandem without his brain having any say in it at all. He’s sure he can feel his heartbeat centred in each of his fingertips where they’re touching Iorek too; is sure both Hester and Iorek must be able to hear it racing away.

His mouth is very dry.

Iorek hasn’t drawn back, hasn’t spoken beyond that sentence uncharacteristically halted mid-way, those dark eyes of his so very intent.

Slowly, carefully, Lee spreads his fingers very gently just half an inch or so wider against the vulnerable arch of Iorek’s throat, revelling in the feeling of warm living flesh beneath velvet soft fur, “Do you mind me touching you here like this? Because I’ll stop if –”

“You do not need to stop,” Pushing up on his elbows a bit, Iorek then straightens his forelegs, angling his body up higher as he sits on his haunches, almost –

Almost as if to give Lee better access.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iorek makes both a request and a revelation, and an entirely compromising position comes about - and an opportunity with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more AU for Iorek's background and headcanon for panserbjørne vs real world polar bears :)
> 
> (Updated 21/08: marginally edited).

“A bear wouldn’t touch another this way, would they,” Lee can barely get this out. Able to control the shaking of his hands this time around as he brings the other one up to graze Iorek’s muzzle while the first remains just as light upon the panserbjørn’s throat, although it feels like the rest of him might fly apart.

“Never outside of the season,” He can feel Iorek’s gaze unwavering on his face; can feel the vibration of that deep voice against his palms, “Even then only with caution, given it could be seen as a precursor to aggression and met with resistance even if one has otherwise already proved their intentions.”

Needless to say, this sets of _all_ sorts of thoughts vying for attention in Lee’s head, but there’s only one thing that matters ultimately, when it comes down to it.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” It should seem strange to say such a thing to a being so very much larger than him and incomparably more powerful, and yet –

Lee’s learned to hit harder than he likes out of necessity; learned how to take a blow and come back from it swinging; learned how to pull his kicks and punches and how _not_ to pull them, and how to talk folk other than his old man out of a fight – and into one. He’s also learned that his size and stature along with Hester’s can lead to them being underestimated and how to use that, and how his not too occasional tendency to let his mouth and not his mind conduct conversations can turn out either a boon or a curse.

He’s been called all sorts of things and not all of them complimentary, and taken little enough of it to heart – except for the things he does and then he can’t seem to ever forget them, although he’s not about to acknowledge as much; just buries the memory of them deep down inside, locked carefully away from the place where he keeps things like the memory of his mother’s ring, the one thing he had left of her that’s now also gone, and all the animals Hester used to turn into back before she settled, when they were both young and even more foolish than she’d no doubt claim they are now.

All of this, and yet –

And yet, for all that another might shrug off the possibility or mock or even laugh at him were they in the panserbjørn’s position – and for all that Iorek could deal with what very minor threat Lee might prove to him by no more than a simple swipe of a paw – he considers Lee entirely seriously.

“I know you will not,” Is his response. And then, “I trust you, my friend.”

“Iorek, I –” Damned if that doesn’t make Lee feel as giddily buoyant as if he might shoot straight up to the daytime moon hovering over them in that seemingly endless sky up above, “I trust you too.”

“We both do,” Hester puts in as Lee watches himself soothe his hand further against the arch of Iorek’s throat, stroking gently down the length of it, before bringing his fingers up again only for Iorek to duck his head in against them in open welcome of the touch.

“Lee, Hester,” His voice is deeper than ever, “I am honoured to be deemed worthy of that trust.”

“ _Of course_ you’re worthy of it,” Hester hops nearer, until she’s only a whisper away from a forepaw easily bigger than she is.

“You _saved our_ _lives_ back in Novy Odense,” Lee can only shake his head, “More than once. We’d never have even got in that warehouse if it weren’t for you.”

“And then you almost did not leave it,” Iorek tips his head in to nose at the bandage hidden under Lee’s coat, “It troubles me to recall how close it was.” He takes a breath in, as if drawing in the scent of bloodmoss and the wound healing steadily there, and Lee –

Lee really really _really_ needs to not think about anything else his friend’s oh so sensitive nose might well scent, and –

“We’re fine now; we’re fine –”

“You persevered regardless of injuries that would have halted others and saved my life as well as your own,” The gentle brush of Iorek’s nose grazing over the corner of Lee’s jaw makes his stomach tremble, “Had you not offered me passage out of the town in this craft, I would have been cut off in the water. Even clad in my helmet, I cannot refute that the weapons I would have been up against would likely have taken their toll – they would have sought to harry me until I died from drowning or the bombardment.”

Now that’s a truly awful thought and one that’s worthy of distracting Lee from – well, anything else, up to and including the state of his cock.

“We’d never have left you there,” Horror clawing in his throat at the mere thought of it, he finds himself cupping Iorek’s muzzle firmly in both hands to emphasise his point, Hester chiming in with her own agreement, “We’d _never_ have just abandoned you like that.”

The very prospect is appalling.

“I feel the same towards yourselves,” Iorek adjusts his position a little to allow for Hester nudging her way back up onto Lee’s knees on the crate, bringing her in closer to them, inclining his head to her to include her in the conversation without drawing away from Lee’s hands, “I must also profess a desire to continue travelling with you after your stopover to collect fuel in the next town, if it is not an inconvenience and I may.”

“You must surely know you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you wish,” Hester sounds put out this might even be in question, Lee holding an elbow out to give her a step up as she scrabbles onto his shoulder to be even closer to eye level with the great bear.

“No question of it whatsoever,” Lee huffs a breath of startled laughter when Iorek’s mouth whispers over the inside of his wrist where his cuff has hitched up, the touch half ticklish and half something that burns inside him, making his whole hand feel lit up. A glance at Hester confirms her attention remains trained on their friend even as she makes a quiet noise herself, “Neither of us want to say farewell to you, Iorek, not unless you have business to conduct that doesn’t involve the presence of –”

“A tiny human,” Hester supplies.

“And his _even tinier_ daemon,” Lee adds pointedly, amused by her consequent grumble, and all the more so when Iorek lets out a sound of amusement of his own at them both.

“While it is true I do have a search to undertake,” Returning to solemnity, he tips his head, “If it does not interfere with your own intentions, I would welcome the company. Your company.”

The fact he makes this clarification very much seems to serve to give it emphasis.

“The – the same here,” There’s a look to Iorek that indicates he’s not finished speaking, so Lee holds his tongue beyond this, although it’s admittedly debatable in this moment whether he’d be able to produce further intelligible words anyway, too overtaken by what he’s feeling all over again.

“This is partially what my aunt implied upon our parting with her and I alluded to earlier,” Iorek’s tone is less troubled than Lee might have expected on making such a pronouncement. He lifts his head out a little from the man’s hands to sniff at Hester as she leans towards him correspondingly, “Svalbard has been held by my family and home to countless panserbjørne for generations, but outside of it the way of my people is solitary and, until my enforced stay in Novy Odense and our meeting, I had been no exception to this rule. Aside from rare occasions such as when waiting for the sea ice to freeze enough to allow for hunting, I have not been party to the extended company of another beyond when nature dictates.”

“M-Mm,” The fact this is the second instance that Iorek has incontrovertibly referred to sex does nothing for Lee’s composure, as nor does the recollection of his friend earlier speaking about _lovers_. Unable to ask for clarification over the connection between the two without betraying the interest he has on the topic, he strives to reapply his concentration to the rest of the conversation. “If it’s not ill-mannered of me, may I ask about this business of yours? I wouldn’t want to presume Hester and I could be of any help, but we’d most surely be willing,”

He gets a look from Iorek that seems part surprised and part considering, and the rest of it unambiguously appreciative.

“Gaining assistance with my quest was not my intention upon requesting to travel further with you both,” There are layers of emotion similarly in his voice; this is an explanation rather than a negation, “However I cannot deny the benefit of your aid. Searching for sky iron is something a panserbjørn must do; I will not return to the land of my father until I have had further success.”

“That’s the metal your helmet is crafted from?” However little he wants to let Iorek go, Lee makes himself do so, holding Hester steady on his shoulder as their friend rises up onto all four paws to fetch the cloth-wrapped bundle that contains his helmet. Angling himself only a little awkwardly off the crate when Iorek returns, Lee perches on the floor of the gondola, instinctively feeling it more respectful to sit on a level with the armour the polar bear so obviously values rather than having him place it at Lee’s feet.

“Indeed,” Iorek sits down with the bundle between them, carefully unwrapping it so they all may see. His gaze upon it much like Lee might look at his little daemon.

“It’s the same, isn’t it,” Her observation very quiet, Hester presses closer against Lee.

“I reckon it might well be, yes,” Drawing her into his arms to hug her against his chest, Lee glances up at Iorek to find the polar bear watching them closely, his expression containing a depth of feeling that makes him swallow.

“ _You understand_ ,” Iorek’s voice is profound, “It is not something a panserbjørn would speak freely of with another outside of their species without very good reason, but Lee, Hester – you understand without my needing to explain.”

“It’s like Hester here,” Given everything that had been going on back in Novy Odense, Lee hadn’t had the chance to properly admire the work gone into the helmet, but he finds himself caught up in it now – the skill of its creation; the composition deceptively simple, no piece of it wasted, “She’s a piece of me, just as I am her. Your armour is – it’s a piece of you too, isn’t it.”

Iorek lowers his head simply in acknowledgement, “It is my soul.”

“ _Oh_ ,” And the humans back in that town had forbidden him – along with his fellow panserbjørne – from wearing it, and then reacted so fearfully and with such suspicion and violence when he did.

Lee’s hands curl into fists, “Iorek, I’m _so_ damned sorry.”

It someone had refused to allow him near Hester – it just couldn’t be done; he would quite literally die of it. The thought that being separated from his armour must have been at the very least metaphorically similar for Iorek –

“You are not responsible for the ignorance of others,” Bending his head further, Iorek places the helmet on smoothly, straightening up again after to regard the much smaller human and arctic hare, “Without this I am incomplete, but even wearing it, I remain as such.”

However unfinished Iorek might consider himself, Lee has to bite his lower lip almost hard enough to break the skin so not to observe just how awe-inspiring the panserbjørn appears. Just how –

Just how tremendously _handsome_ Iorek is, both with and without his helmet on.

“Because you need to craft further pieces,” Making himself concentrate on his memory of the Wanderer and her own battered but more extensive armour, Lee tightens his grip around Hester until she prods him in the ribs with a hind leg, “Iorek, if you’ll forgive the impertinence, your aunt implied – well, I don’t know if it’s comparable but I get the impression –”

“Spit it out, Lee,” Hester head-butts her little head against his chin.

“We’re not aged that differently, are we,” Lee more or less blurts, then has to conceal a wince of chagrin straight after, “Unless I’ve got it all wrong.”

“My knowledge of your species may be unreliable on such a topic, given my only encounters with the human equivalent of a cub have been briefly and from a distance,” Iorek contemplates, “However taking into account the respective lifespan of our species and if I am correct in my estimation of your age –”

“I’m going on twenty-five,” Lee clarifies, “Maybe – well, it seems bad luck to guess at the years Hester and I have left ahead of us. But she settled and I stopped being one of those cubs a fair while back, at least.”

“And yet you’re not nearly as mature as you like to consider yourself,” Hester supplies.

“Hester, you know I'm the _epitome_ of adulthood,” Giving her his best wounded look, Lee claps a hand to his chest.

“He really isn't,” Willfully ignoring his protests, Hester informs their friend.

“I shall refrain from speculating on that account,” There’s that glimmer of humour back in Iorek’s eye all over again as he addresses arctic hare and then man, “However, Lee, I will conjecture that while we may be around the equivalent of the same age, the elders of my people might well in fact consider me younger than yours would you.”

“You – really?” Taken aback, Lee can only blink. Somehow for all he'd had the suspicion the former might be the case, he hadn’t expected the latter. It shouldn’t change anything, but –

“It is possible I am mistaken, but I believe not,” Iorek shifts his massive shoulders in what seems the polar bear equivalent of a shrug, a gesture quite possibly learned from Lee himself. A touch of something that might be humour mingled with mild vexation colours his next words, “Back before she left Svalbard, my aunt always considered me precocious and made a habit of reminding me of my youth. She also felt I was pushed into responsibility too young by my father, an aspect upon which she and I disagreed. But while I have acted independently since leaving my mother’s side as a youngling and am mentally mature, I am yet as now not physically fully grown.”

The thought of Iorek getting even _bigger_ in years to come is truly something indeed.

“You’re also a prince,” Lee has no hope in the slightest of keeping this from tripping out of his mouth, “Aren’t you.”

He shouldn’t find this aspect of his friend anywhere _near_ as appealing as he does. Because he’s never held much regard for the social structure humans impose upon themselves – or political or religious institutions insist on imposing upon them – and thoughts of the excessive wealth owned by a few while folks like his Ma struggled to put enough food on the table has always made him grit his teeth so not to rail against it.

But – but the thought of Iorek being royalty is tangled up in every favourable impression of the panserbjørn Lee has. In the back of his mind, he can’t help but recall the fantastical stories his mother sometimes told him when he was very young indeed and hiding himself and Hester somewhere, stricken by his old man’s rages, in which knights and princes made friends with gun-toting cowboys and helped them out of all sorts of perilous situations.

While Lee’s proved himself more than able to get himself out of said situations – having first got himself _into_ them, in fairness, perhaps more often than not – and while he’s never been on the lookout for someone to sweep him off his feet as it were –

Well, there’s still a part of him that guiltily thrills at the thought of Iorek’s status nonetheless. And he can’t deny that he’s increasingly willing to be swept.

“My father is King of Svalbard and I am his heir,” Removing his helmet just as gracefully as he put it on, Iorek sets it to one side atop the protective cloth, before moving back in to graze his nose against the heat that seems intent on taking up permanent home in Lee’s face.

“So that’s a yes,” Lee’s hand flies up to his cheek, the space between them small enough that his fingers catch in the fine ends of white fur as he does. “Prince, ah,” He licks dry lips, unable whatsoever to resist the impulse, “Prince Iorek.”

“If you call me that, you may find me obliged to retaliate,” The mock-threat contains wonderful laughter, rumbling right up against Lee’s ear and hot cheek as Iorek jostles his good shoulder very lightly, just a tiny bit, still enough to make Lee rock where he sits, “There is no need for such a title between us, my foolish aeronaut.”

_His_ foolish aeronaut –

_I am,_ Lee thinks with a wrenching feeling, _I could be. I_ want _to be._

“What’ll you do? If I call you that again,” Confident given Iorek’s reaction that the topic is causing no offence, Lee’s mouth has to go and ever so casually enquire even as _want_ and _need_ flare right back up inside him until his whole self feels filled to brimming over again with them. That heart of his back to thumping away, he lets his hand curve around Iorek’s jaw, daring to brush the pad of his thumb breathtakingly close to the corner of the panserbjørn’s mouth.

This is –

Something has indeed shifted between them from how it was earlier, perhaps on Iorek’s admission and perhaps on their mutual expression of the desire not to part, aided by each touch Iorek reacts to, the polar bear inclining now towards Lee again. Tucked under Lee’s arm as she is, Hester makes a near inaudible noise, betraying the shared tension Lee himself is stridently endeavouring not to outwardly express.

“Are you challenging me?” There’s a distinct undertone to Iorek’s response much like muted thunder, belied by his open disposition and that humour lingering clear in his eye.

“Maybe – maybe I am,” The risk of saying this shoots a thrill straight through Lee – much like when he and Hester first took off in the balloon, or hanging onto the ropes in a strong wind, riding out the swooping gusts.

He’s incredibly aware that, were he another panserbjørn, saying as such would indubitably result in this encounter heading in a _wholly_ different direction. As it is, while there’s a hint of answering tension – or even anticipation – mirrored in Iorek’s frame, nothing about him in any way indicates incipient violence.

“Because if you are, you will find I will not submit to it,” The panserbjørn doesn’t even lift a paw towards them; just leans his head up and out a few inches –

And returns thereafter to his previous position with a certain hat clasped in his mouth.

Lee has no chance whatsoever of preventing his mouth from falling open in surprise, although a delighted grin takes over his expression right after.

“Hey!” Unable not to respond in kind, his hand flies up from his cheek to his hair, Hester bounding out of his grip and over to one side as he pushes himself in closer to their friend in unthinking chase, “That’s just robbery, that’s what it is!”

He’s laughing helplessly as Iorek raises a massive forepaw to nudge him very gently back out of reach, right as Lee’s fingertips glance off the rim; Iorek huffing in a manner that implies he’s equally amused. Lee has to grab at him for that, bypassing the hat in place of lunging upwards on his knees and digging his fingers into the plush fur of Iorek’s ruff in revenge, running them upwards to scratch first behind one ear and then the other, while Iorek shakes his head and makes a noise far more like unambiguous purring than any Lee’s heard him produce before.

“ _Lee_ ,” He nudges harder against Lee’s good shoulder once more and a little less gentle with it, a fraction less controlled – and that’s it, that’s Lee narrowly missing the crate as he goes over with an _oof_ , flat onto his back, Iorek following right after him, raising up on all fours to hover over him.

And that’s it likewise, Lee’s cock is making its feelings known _extremely_ demandingly on the subject, but he can’t – he’s not –

He has to spread his knees a bit to accommodate it, even as he chokes back a gasp. He won’t, he mustn’t, but –

But Iorek is _responding_ , even if just to the playfulness, and despite himself Lee feels a breathless stab of hope.

“I have you, my friend,” Turning his head aside for a moment, Iorek deposits Lee’s hat atop his helmet, a care to the gesture that makes Lee’s heart leap into his throat.

“A-are you sure about that?” His eyes narrowing as if he means this in any sense, Lee rubs harder behind those ears until the great body above his shudders, before dragging his hands down around to duck under Iorek’s chin, stroking the vulnerable softness there as firmly as he dares, “Because don’t you think I might just have you too?”

“ _Lee_ –” Iorek sways in against the touch to the extent Lee’s shifted with him a few inches on the floor of the gondola, one hand grasping for a huge forepaw and clinging on, “Yes, there is the possibility that assessment might be –” He actually loses track of what he’s saying momentarily as Lee trails his hand down the arch of his throat much as he had earlier, far less tentatively this time, “Might be correct.”

“I’ve got you, my prince,” Lee hears his voice try to drop half an octave; hitches it up higher with no little effort to keep the extent of the implication it wants to contain from his tone, “Just like you’ve got me.”

A swift glance at Hester confirms she’s feeling the exact same thing as him; how they’re poised right on the brink. And when it comes right down to it, when there’s a fair wind blowing and conditions seem favourable, he’s never been one not to take the plunge.

“So,” Licking his dry lips, Lee meets those dark eyes watching him so very intently, drawing his hands back up together again until he’s cradling Iorek’s face in his palms, almost overrun inside by the sheer intensity of all his want and hope, “Do you reckon there’s a chance you might want to – do something about that?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some mental perambulations, more than one admission and a new experience for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fairly long chapter - it didn't feel right to break this one up. Thanks very much to those who left kudos and comments last chap :D <3
> 
> Smut.

“You wish to know whether I want to – do something,” Iorek’s opinions upon this possibility are regrettably difficult to interpret, although this might just be due to the fact Lee’s about ready to explode from the extent of his tension – and the extent of his arousal, there’s also that.

Even so, the panserbjørn’s inflection on those two words is undeniably the same. For all he stridently informs himself this doesn’t necessarily mean anything – that it might _well_ not mean anything – it still makes Lee’s pulse jump.

Much as he tries to ignore it, so does his cock.

“Sure do,” is all Lee can get out. It’s so difficult to keep his hands motionless on either side of Iorek’s face; so difficult not to push himself up off the floor of the gondola to close that last remaining bit of distance between them and –

“ _Lee_ ,” Hester thankfully chooses this point to give him a kick.

“Y-yeah,” Trying and failing to clear his throat, Lee similarly tries and fails to get his act back together a bit.

_Damn it._

“I have never before been brought to a standstill during a challenge,” While such an admission could well be expected to contain reluctance or even offence at his opponent’s unconventional method of success, Iorek’s tone fails to include either of these things. Instead it’s rich with a complex undercurrent of emotions Lee’s not about to let himself start presuming about.

Still, none of them sound as if they’re of complaint.

“We can keep going if you prefer to establish a clear winner and not call it a draw,” His mouth decides to offer – as if Lee has any sort of real chance at winning against the panserbjørn; as if the mere touch of his fingers truly has the power to keep the great polar bear in any way even in check.

But just the thought of continuing their tussle – and of a certain _other_ kind of tussling they could do –

“ _Hah_ ,” Lee’s hard put not to squirm, his current position sprawled under his friend preventing him from in any way circumspectly getting a hand down and adjusting what, as a result of considering such prospects along with the proximity, very much requires adjusting. Iorek is watching him, for a start –

Iorek is watching him.

His gaze intent as ever, those dark eyes of his taking in every expression to cross Lee’s face, and Lee really shouldn’t find this anywhere _near_ as appealing as he does, especially as he’s likely emoting all sorts of things he no doubt should be refraining from emoting –

But awareness of the attention prickles across his skin, causing his balls to hitch up higher within the increasingly uncomfortable confines of his unforgiving trousers, a noise that chances are could prove to be a whine battling to escape from his throat.

_Fuck._

Lee has to clamp down on the urge to prompt Iorek for his answer – or to provide further encouragement with regards to his original proposition given that, no matter how fervently his dick might be insisting he plead his case, it would be both ungentlemanly and plain unacceptable of him to push.

_You’re a damn fool, Scoresby,_ The thought comes spoken in a voice much like Hester’s inside his head, just as a glance at her finds her giving him a similarly speaking look – although he can feel full well just how het up she is too.

And however much of a fool Lee might be, it’s far from escaped his notice that Iorek’s holding himself very still, poised on his forepaws above Lee as if taking deliberate care to keep from moving, perhaps in the concern he might once more take the much smaller human along for the ride.

It requires some effort indeed for Lee not to inform his polar bear friend that he’s entirely willing to be taken.

“I believe it could perhaps prove unwise to keep going without clearer terms of engagement,” is Iorek’s eventual pronouncement on the matter.

_Ah_.

Lee can’t help but bite down hard on his lip in a pre-emptive wince, because – is that Iorek’s answer to the rest of it, too?

He issues both himself and his cock a firm reminder that his friend would be fully within rights if it is.

“Hah, yeah, I guess I –” Already in the process of starting to curse himself thoroughly and prepare a wholehearted apology, he jumps at Hester’s demanding prod.

_“Quit talking and listen!_ ” is her accompanying hiss.

“It is not a criticism,” Iorek is continuing, that mix of emotions still colouring his tone. He shakes his head slightly, much as if at himself, “I would simply be incapable of forgiving myself were I to unintentionally cause yourself or Hester harm.”

Resuming motion enough to incline his head a little lower, he nudges at Lee’s hands one and then the other, the movement causing them to slide through guard hairs into soft fur.

“M-Mm,” All his hope returning fast enough to near swamp him, Lee sifts his fingers back through that velvet plush, Hester letting out a quiet murmur at his side, “I appreciate that, Iorek, I do truly.” He hardly knows what he’s saying, unable to prevent a bit of desperation rising up, “But you won’t hurt us –”

“But I _could_ ,” The heaviness in Iorek’s voice is in direct contrast to the gentleness with which he brushes his mouth against Lee’s temple, nosing into the dark strands of hair above the man’s ear, before addressing his explanation to Hester as well, “I cannot say how much I value your trust, my friends, but the truth remains that in an unguarded moment I could hurt the pair of you without even realising it.”

“ _You won’t_ ,” Shivering as the wonderfully warm whisper of Iorek’s exhalations set his skin tingling, one of Lee’s hands takes it upon itself to slip down until the pad of his index finger grazes the corner of the panserbjørn’s mouth, much as his thumb did earlier, “Iorek, I –”

Yearning fills his throat, effectively snatching away speech.

“When you touch me in such a manner –” Iorek begins as Lee’s other hand strays back to his neck, the words uncharacteristically a little unsteady, a little less measured and thought out.

It’s certainly a way to start a sentence. Dragging in a shuddering breath, Lee has to fight to keep his hips from jerking up.

“Like – like this?” That tremble back to making its way through him, he traces the length of Iorek’s jawbone with his thumb before letting his fingers stroke the vulnerable softness of the panserbjørn’s throat, shivering all the harder when Iorek leans into it to increase the pressure of the touch, “Or –”

The index finger of his other hand stirs, tracing that corner of Iorek’s mouth before slipping properly onto the panserbjørn’s lower lip for the first time, stopping just before the impressive curve of a tooth.

“Or how about – like this?” He can’t tear his gaze away from how he’s touching his friend, but is so very aware of those eyes still on him nonetheless.

“ _Lee_ ,” His name in that deep voice is extremely near enough to undo him completely.

“Iorek,” Lee dares to let a second finger join the first, conscious of the way Hester’s gone utterly motionless, her eyes fixed like his upon their friend’s mouth, her whole body inclining towards the panserbjørn. Conscious of the way Iorek closes his lips over those teeth as if to ensure no harm comes to his fingers as a result of the exploratory touch.

“Can I kiss you?” The plea tumbles unbidden out of Lee’s mouth.

There’s a second in which it feels like the whole world halts as he realises what he’s just said.

“Kiss –” Iorek repeats in such a way it abruptly occurs to Lee that this is a decidedly human indulgence it’s quite possible the polar bear might not in fact have witnessed.

“Yeah, I, ah,” How in the world to put it that won’t sound off-putting to someone to whom the act might seem entirely alien? For all his mind races, it comes back mostly blank, addled by the fear the wrong words might shut this whole thing down.

“Iorek, like this,” Hester, bless her, comes to the rescue, giving herself a good shake before tipping in and essentially head-butting her forehead against Lee’s own.

“Not quite like that,” Losing a scrap of his tension as a laugh puffs out of him at the impact, Lee turns his head to drop a gentler kiss against the top of her own little softly furred head in return, “More like this.”

“Ah,” Iorek’s response contains both comprehension and a pinch of self-directed chagrin, “While I have not previously encountered the term, I believe I have seen humans make such a gesture previously.” He tips his head on a thoughtful huff, “While it is not part of panserbjørne culture, I witnessed a similar act once in Novy Odense.”

“O-oh?” Lee can’t imagine who the bear might have come across kissing in that gloomy old town –

Oh.

Oh wait. Yes, he can.

“Miss Lund,” Crikey, he hasn’t thought of her in – in –

It feels like a long time ago, much longer ago than it truly was. And as much as Lee had thought he could have quite fallen for her in that moment of their escape from the town, on discovering her foresight and kindness had seen the balloon readied with both gas and generous supplies to boot, he can see now that –

That –

He has nothing but good wishes for her and her fiancé; never has had anything but. After that danged lonely month on the balloon before he and Hester crash-landed, he’d been hankering for the pleasure of friendly company on a cold evening, but while Olga Poliakova – and her dark eyes – had initially inspired interest that waned ever more hastily on learning of her intolerant opinions regarding their fellow inhabitants of this old world –

Well. Miss Lund had been by far the preferable of the pair in both actions and temperament, but Lee hadn’t –

He’d spoken with her about that spot of trouble she’d been so upset about, the two of them alone in her bedroom after curfew, and it hadn’t inspired even a spark of physical reaction in him. As wound up generally as he’d been from all that enforced abstinence, his mind hadn’t strayed towards the inappropriate even despite her state of undress.

He could call it being a gentleman, would have been a gentleman _had_ it occurred to him – the thought of taking advantage of someone emotionally vulnerable not one he agrees with in the slightest –

But.

She’d become his friend in the time he’d known her. A good friend, for sure, if not in as deep a way that Iorek’s a good friend – the polar bear’s the best friend Lee’s ever had aside from Hester, in truth. He’s grateful to know the both of them, woman and bear, and had the situation permitted it, would have been pleased to have spent more time conversing with Miss Lund.

But that would have been it – conversing. Because though they both might be his friends, his feelings towards her and Iorek aren’t the same _at all_.

There _is_ something there, isn’t there, like he’d skirted away from pondering back on getting reacquainted with his own hand. Something Lee should perhaps be considering when it comes to the panserbjørn, although this isn’t really the time to be ruminating on it either.

Something about the extent of his affection for –

“Indeed,” Iorek is agreeing, unaware of Lee’s mental perambulating, “While you were indisposed after the conflict in the warehouse.”

_While you were attempting to patch yourself up in the Company washroom after practically passing out twice and one of them near on top of me_ , he’s kind enough not to say.

“The young Lieutenant Haughland exchanged brief words with his affianced when she came to check on your wellbeing before once more departing, I believe in order to make the preparations you have spoken of to this balloon,” Iorek glances up around the gondola, some of the contents of which indeed still contain the results of Miss Lund’s generosity.

“He kissed her?” Lee doesn’t fully intend to request the clarification given the implication is already there. Still, as he’d quite happily have finagled his way into some closer company with the good Lieutenant himself before he knew of the man’s engagement, had Lee not been punctured twice over and the opportunity been present –

Well, it’s pleasantly freeing to consider this likelihood and feel no touch of envy when it comes to either party. To conclude that the only unfortunate flash of jealousy he’d felt about the situation had been wrapped up in Iorek’s estimation of the other man, as uncharitable of Lee as it had been. He’d just –

He’d just wanted Iorek to like _him_ at least halfway as much.

Lee can’t help the glow in his chest now at his certainty of his friend’s regard. At the fact that Iorek’s _interested_ in him and Hester, in the polar bear’s own words; that Iorek’s _curious_ about them when he isn’t about the majority of other humans.

“Lee, your head’s going to inflate so much shortly we’ll be able to use it as a second balloon,” Hester interrupts, with a prod of a forepaw for emphasis.

“Shoot,” Giving himself a shake much like his little daemon did, Lee winces, “Pardon my distraction, Iorek.”

His mind’s all over the place, isn’t it.

“Oh, don’t concern yourself about me when it comes to your mental rambling,” Hester’s tone isn’t anywhere near as put out as her words imply, to which Lee can only chuckle and kiss her in apology, intensely aware of Iorek watching him do as much.

“I apologise if this is a sensitive topic for you,” The panserbjørn provides, which proves his awareness of at least some of Lee’s former feelings for one or other of the human couple.

“Ah no, it’s fine,” Lee has to hurry to correct the potential misunderstanding, even as Hester chimes in with her own negation, “I just meant –”

“Iorek, may I ask _how_ he kissed her?” His little daemon then takes it on herself to interrupt, directing her attention up to the great bear, “Or did she kiss him?”

It’s _entirely_ unlike her to be interested in such things.

“This one’s been thinking about it _very loudly_ ,” Hester continues, which has Lee spluttering a bit, his face flooding with heat.

“That’s _not_ what I’m thinking about, rabbit –”

It really isn’t.

“If you will permit me the demonstration,” Iorek’s response has them both stopping speaking at once. A touch of amusement and – and something Lee once again hesitates to put a name to – in the polar bear’s gaze, he angles his head to the side so Lee’s fingers slide off his mouth, something that would cause Lee an intense pang of regret, except –

Except Iorek then grazes his mouth ever so lightly over Lee’s knuckles.

“The kiss, if I am correct it was indeed such a gesture, was performed as such.”

“ _O-oh_ ,” Dang, that little touch really should not result in Lee feeling like he’s going to burst into flame, “That’s –”

“Yeah, that was a kiss,” For all she’s just as abuzz inside as Lee is, Hester manages to control her ears enough that they barely quiver as she tips her head up towards the much larger panserbjørn, adopting a tone of innocent helpfulness Lee knows full well is far less ingenuous than it sounds, “It doesn’t have to be just mouth to forehead or hand.”

“I have surmised as much,” Iorek thankfully seems amused rather than put out by the obvious implication – if perhaps, just perhaps, also a little intrigued. His dark eyes settle back on Lee, who finds himself hard put not to react, the skin over his knuckles still tingling with the remembered touch, “This is something you are curious about?”

_Real curious._

“Y-yeah,” Lee has to lick his lips, “It is.”

“It is significant to you,” This isn’t a question.

Lee’s heart thumps almost painfully in reply within the press of his ribs.

“Yes,” The word comes out huskily. He finds himself reaching out again, the hand that Iorek – that Iorek _kissed_ – cupping the panserbjørn’s cheek, “But you don’t have to; I’d never want you to feel talked into it or obliged.”

“If it is something you are curious about and that has meaning to you, then I am willing to experiment,” Iorek leans in to investigate Lee’s temple much as he had before, then his cheek.

“If you’re – If you’re sure,” Lee has to squeeze his eyes shut, feeling Hester tuck herself in right against him as he fumbles to hook his arm up over as much of Iorek’s shoulders as he can, turning so his nose brushes through short fur.

He kisses him.

Kisses the crook of Iorek’s jaw and his cheek; kisses as close to Iorek’s mouth as he dares. Wishes he knew what Iorek would make of it if he kissed him there.

“Iorek,” Lee can’t stop talking between snatched in breaths, can’t keep himself from clutching at the polar bear when Iorek nuzzles his own cheek in return, “Like that, yes –”

His stomach keeps jerking, little jolts he can’t do anything to control, and when Iorek’s mouth finds his jaw he outright groans.

“ _Ahhh_ –” Wincing, Lee freezes, hastily strangling the sound.

“Lee, may I –” Iorek doesn’t seem at all perturbed. Seems notably distracted himself in fact, busy investigating Lee’s jaw much as Lee’s fingers had earlier explored Iorek’s, “Can I –”

“ _You can_ ,” His whole body ablaze with the thrill of it, Hester letting out a groan of her own, Lee tips his head back to bare his throat.

Offering himself up to the panserbjørn.

“ _Lee_ ,” Iorek lets out a sound deeper than any he’s made before, one at least part way towards a growl, but mightily reminiscent of a groan. That wealth of emotions is so much stronger in his voice as well, more so than Lee’s ever heard, “My friend, you would trust me even with this?”

He sounds almost overwhelmed.

“ _Yes_ ,” Lee can well understand that feeling. He’s close to overwhelmed himself, gasping airlessly at the first near cautious whisper of Iorek’s mouth against the underside of his jaw.

Then Iorek licks him there.

“ _Hah!_ ” Lee near catapults half-upwards – as pent up as he is, it hits him nearly as hard as if Iorek had licked his _cock_.

The thought of which is –

“ _Oh_ _fuck_ ,” Lee doesn’t intend to say this at all. Nor does he intend to repeat it when Iorek licks him again, nosing briefly under his ear as if to draw in the scent of him there, the polar bear’s exhalation afterwards bursting hotly down the length of his neck and through the gaps in his rumpled scarf, the feeling of it enough to make his nipples tight enough to hurt, “Oh fuck. _Iorek_.”

“Hmm,” There’s that note to Iorek’s rumbling that sounds so much like a purr, and Lee can’t carry on like this without telling him, without making damn sure he’s absolutely aware –

“Iorek, I’m real sorry not to have owned up to it earlier, though I’m sure it’s probably darned obvious, but I’m – well, there’s no real polite way to put it, but –”

Shit, he’s babbling.

“If you are referring to your arousal, I am aware,” Iorek’s reply thrums right through him into his bones.

To Lee’s intense disappointment though, he also pulls back, if only enough to witness the no doubt desperate look on the man’s face.

“I have not mentioned it as it seemed to me that doing so might be inappropriate,” The panserbjørn touches his nose to one of Lee’s red cheeks in what can only read as affection, “Be that as it may, I am afraid I have no means of _not_ being aware of it.” His pause is short but meaningful. “At any point.”

Oh.

Oh _shit_.

“Lee, you _know_ his nose is even better than mine,” Hester’s up and practically bounding about in circles near their sides, “Heck, a polar bear’s nose is probably better than anyone’s out there.”

“Yeah, I know, but –” Talk of inappropriate. All those times he’d just hoped to hell his body’s indiscretion would somehow not be noticed. Lee’s hand is up shielding his face in mortification before he can force it back down, “I sincerely apologise, Iorek; I truly do.”

“We cannot help the way in which nature causes our bodies to react,” Iorek seems remarkably unperturbed, “One can find oneself stricken on inopportune occasions regardless of species. Outside of the season, if the ache were bad enough, my kind would seek relief with another if present and willing. However, I am aware that humans are a private species in certain regards, with rules and conventions I lack proper knowledge of when it comes to no few forms of social interactions and, as such, thought it best neither to enquire nor infer.”

“You –” Lee bites his lip. Sneaks a glance at Iorek’s own mouth through the gaps between his fingers and bites down that much harder, “You don’t mind?”

“It makes up part of your scent,” He gets a huff that seems to contain a clear smile, before Iorek leans in again, slow enough for Lee to have time to protest, something he signally fails to do, “You smell of yourself, my friend.”

That oh so talented nose skims over his fingers and then back on down to his neck, Lee making a small noise when Iorek sniffs him there openly this time around, leisurely, no rush about it.

“In addition to your arousal, you smell of your skin and your sweat, and the products you use to cleanse yourself,” There’s – there’s _appreciation_ , isn’t there, in those words, “You smell of bloodmoss and your healing injuries; the oil required to maintain the balloon and the gas used to power it, and of the coffee you drink.”

“I – heh. I sure hope those aren’t _bad_ things,” Lee has to check despite everything, moving on to biting the inside of his cheek, a hand flailing out in search of his little daemon as she settles herself back in nearby, the both of them in need of the grounding contact lest they go whirling away up to that daytime moon.

“How could I have an objection? I have an excellent reason for a positive association with all of them, my friend,” There’s that smile in Iorek’s voice as he follows the length of Lee’s throat down to the man’s scarf and collar, “You also smell of whatever you have been eating; of the fabric your clothing is made from and the items you keep in your pockets. And always, more than anything –” He raises his nose just enough to incline his head in the direction of Lee’s little daemon, “You smell of Hester, Lee; just as Hester’s scent is in part that of yourself.”

“ _I-Iorek_ ,” This feels torn out of Lee, “Will you – would you consider letting me – would you mind if I –”

“You may,” Iorek grants and Lee can’t help it, he can’t help it –

Pushing himself up on an elbow, he smooths the fingers of his other hand through the velvet fur of Iorek’s own throat, and kisses him again, on his nose, on the side of his muzzle –

And this time, his mouth.

“ _Mm_ ,” The groan bursts out of Lee almost without him realising it, the feeling of his mouth against Iorek’s rattling right through him, arousal walloping him hard in the gut. He’s back to clutching all at once, barely aware even of Hester, of anything at all –

The whole world could vanish around them and he’d be none the wiser. All he can think about, all he can feel is Iorek –

“Is this all right?” His voice spills out of him as nothing more than a whisper again; he can’t help but kiss Iorek another time right after, lingering against the closed seam of the panserbjørn’s mouth, “Do tell me if – if it’s not.”

He hadn’t –

Lee hadn’t dared let himself dream that this would really work – even letting his imaginings get as far as the potential mechanics of it had felt in a way like taking advantage of his friend. But his fingers creep up to brush over that corner of Iorek’s lips again, in that place they like best, tracing where his mouth doesn’t reach with his thumb, and it _feels_ like kissing, even if –

Even if Iorek hasn’t responded.

“ _Lee_ ,” Iorek’s voice is heavy. Lee tightens his grip on Hester, unintentionally clinging onto her almost too hard, hearing the shudder of her own breath.

“Is this – It crossed a line, didn’t it,” Lee can’t open his eyes up, can’t look at him, can’t bear the thought of stopping, although he will if he has to, of course he will –

“Perhaps I should deem it so,” Iorek admits. Lee doesn’t have to curse himself again for long though, because the panserbjørn then continues, “And yet, while it is strange to me, I find it is in fact not objectionable.” He pauses as if considering, before concluding, “It is not objectionable at all.”

This said, Iorek takes it upon himself to lick quite deliberately at Lee’s mouth.

It’s possible that at this point Lee might let out an entirely undignified noise, just as he wholly fails at holding himself back from panting, forced to worm a hand down between them after all to shove his palm urgently at his cock, only _just_ succeeding in keeping himself from grinding against it instead.

“ _Iorek, Iorek, Iorek_ ,” He also reels the polar bear right in against him as best he can with his other hand, beyond delighted when Iorek allows it. Revelling in the messiness of it as he kisses in between Iorek’s licks, grinning so much he can hardly coordinate himself, Hester kicking a little against him as they both squirm, “Oh shoot, oh _fuck_ –”

This doesn’t just feel like kissing. It feels like the best darn kissing he’s ever been lucky enough to participate in.

It goes without saying he does _not_ want to pull back or put any kind of a stop to it, but any more of this and his dick’s going to _burst_. He hasn’t been this turned on or turned on for this long in –

Well, ever.

“I do apologise, Iorek, but I’m going to have to – to take a breather or risk making a fool of myself _real_ soon,” Even saying this takes him that much closer, “I can’t emphasise enough just how soon, if you, _ah_ –” It’s a struggle to get out intelligible words, “If you c-catch my drift.”

“I do,” Iorek dips his head down to investigate the skin he reveals beneath the scarf he’s tugged carefully half undone, his lips grazing the base of Lee’s throat above his collar, “Do you wish to stop, my friend?”

“No, I don’t want to stop – _please_ _don’t stop_ –” Lee can feel himself leaking beneath the press of his palm, can feel the way his balls are drawn up tighter than they’ve ever been, can feel how he’s right on the very, very edge.

“I have you, my foolish aeronaut,” Mouthing at the crook of his neck, purring in the way that soaks right into Lee’s bones, the great polar bear lowers himself on his elbows to rest the merest fraction of his weight on top of Lee, and just this – just this much –

“ _Hah –!_ ” Everything culminates –

And then Lee’s pushing up hard into his palm and tumbling over with a shout, peripherally aware of Hester exclaiming along with him, bright, brilliant sensation sweeping him up and shaking him, so damned intense and so damned good it almost hurts.

It deposits him almost gently right back down where it got him from after, sprawling lax and boneless on the floor of the gondola as he endeavours to regain his breath, with Hester in one arm and Iorek above and around him, the very best place there is to be in the world. Although –

Although it was just him, wasn’t it. It was – well, a whole lot of this, really, has just been him.

This thought comes like a much belated bucketful of cold water to the brain.

It doesn’t take Hester pointing it out for Lee to realise that not only was he racing ahead, but that he’s been doing so in quite a specific direction for quite some time now. That given his explanation about the panserbjørne way of things, Iorek like as not considers what just happened as simply a kindness; just a favour for a friend. And this is fine, of course, this is more than Lee dared ever imagine he’d be able to have, but –

But. But why then does this prospect cause tightness to leap back into his chest and raise a lump in his throat?

“Can I, ah, can I do anything for you, Iorek?” His mind back to whirling, Lee chews the inside of his cheek, trying not to conjecture too much as he seeks out the polar bear’s gaze.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The answer to an important question, an agreement, more than one temptation along a certain theme, and a farewell of a kind that leads into a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly done! Thanks so much for kudos and comments last chapter :D

“Lee, my friend,” Iorek’s tone is rich with open affection to the extent it makes Lee’s cheeks prickle with heat, his fingers curling tighter into soft fur until he has to remind himself not to cling. He gets a lick to the curve of his jaw for his trouble and then a nuzzle of that nose, before Iorek seems to make himself pull back, “I cannot deny that it is a tempting offer and, if you still feel so inclined at a more opportune time, something I feel could well be worthy of further discussion.”

“Y-yeah?” Lee has no hope whatsoever at keeping a crooked grin from spreading over his face, even as he drags in a great gulp of air that comes laced with pure heady delight, Hester beside him letting out a murmur of her own.

It’s possible it might be along the lines of _I told you so, Lee!_ but if it is and she did, he must have missed it somehow.

“Yes,” There’s no hesitation in Iorek’s response, “For all our differences, I believe that we are in many ways very well-matched.” For all it is already deep, his voice lowers even further, “I would go so far as to say uniquely so.”

“Now that’s –” His own voice coming all too close to cracking, Lee has to swallow dryly and clear his throat, his heart back to knocking hard against his ribs as he bites his lower lip in the attempt to moderate the strength of his response, “I can’t say as I think you’re wrong there, Iorek.”

“He means he completely agrees,” Hester provides, clambering up onto his chest so she’s right in front of the panserbjørn.

“I am glad to hear it,” Inclining his head to her before raising it a little higher to give her room, Iorek’s reply contains a smile, “Now loathe as I may be to change the subject, if you are feeling better, my friends, the scent of the air beyond the gondola tells me that the weather will soon turn for the worse and you, Lee, have already once grown dangerously chilled.”

“I’ve got to say I’m _entirely_ fine and dandy now, thanks to yourself, and not at all inclined towards moving,” Biting back a groan of heartfelt reluctance, Lee has to give himself another stern talking to when Iorek huffs in fond amusement and shakes himself as if the attempt to get his own act together before starting to draw further back, and Lee’s hands seek to clutch at him in instinctive protest, “Just another moment?”

“My foolish aeronaut,” The warmth of Iorek’s voice this time contains a very near purr, the sound of which does wonders towards reviving Lee’s cock, “For all I would have it otherwise, I must insist. I would have us take no further risks with your wellbeing nor your health.”

“If you’re determined to prove yourself not to have any common sense, Lee, at least also prove yourself capable of listening to it,” Hester’s tone isn’t nearly as harsh as her words, the half-hearted kick she aims at him indicating her own unspoken unwillingness to move, before she makes herself bound far enough away Lee has to grimace at the threat of that awful tug at their bond, “Come on now, Iorek’s right; I can smell the change to the weather coming too.”

“Darn it,” He’s not above grumbling as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, grimace deepening as the rather unpleasant state of his trousers makes itself undeniably known, “If we weren’t so low on gas, I’d suggest finding somewhere to hole up here and not head for the next town.” Once he’s up and huddling into the depths of his coat after a quick fumble with a handkerchief Iorek’s kind enough not to mention, Lee can’t deny that for all the sky indicates prime flying conditions for the next handful of hours – as far as can be relied upon in this part of the world and its changeable temperament – he would be a fool indeed not to trust the two best noses he knows.

“Indeed, and I must hunt beforehand,” A certain disinclination in his gaze as he eyes the rail to the gondola he must climb in order to re-join the world outside, Iorek glances back at them, “I do apologise for the abrupt nature of this, Lee.”

“There’s no need,” Pausing as he goes to scoop his hat up from where it’s still perched on top of Iorek’s helmet, Lee chews the inside of his cheek, “I just – I mean no offense by it, Iorek, but in truth I’m not feeling at all inclined towards the company of my own kind at the moment, and were the situation different, would by far prefer to remain where it can be just the three of us.”

“Hm?” Iorek blinks, and – and Lee’s said too much, hasn’t he; another occasion in which he’s carried on talking when he shouldn’t, and –

“ _Lee_ ,” The panserbjørn padding back over to his side halts that train of thought, and then Lee’s flinging out a hand in search of any kind of support to keep himself upright given Iorek crowds in close to him _very_ nicely and –

“ _Mm_ – _!_ ”

Considering Iorek hadn’t been more than peripherally familiar with the mere concept of kissing until just recently, he proves himself both a quick study and a dab hand at instigating it, his much larger mouth finding Lee’s smaller one unerringly, a great forepaw going up to rest against Lee’s back when the man’s knees threaten to give up on him despite his handhold, Lee moaning loudly enough he’d have to laugh at himself a little if he wasn’t wholly invested in burrowing back in against Iorek, throwing his arms around those broad shoulders as much as he’s able to and returning the kiss for all he’s worth.

“And on that note –” Iorek shakes himself harder than ever when he finally pulls back, his breath coming gratifyingly hard, “I must go, but will shortly return.”

“You – ah – yeah – um, sure,” Lee’s able to let him go this time, as exceedingly little as he might want to, his face feeling aglow and his hair every which way on his head, lips tingling most wonderfully as he manages to summon up the ability to nod.

He turns a dazed yet immensely jubilant look on Hester when their friend’s departed, her little back going stiffly upright in response to the following twitch of his eyebrow along with his fingers.

“Don’t you dare!” Her objection is an indignant hiss, “You need to be getting the balloon ready and not –!”

“ _Hester_ ,” Lee’s cock is outright demanding his attention once more, pushing just as insistently at his trousers as before, and he can’t help but press the heel of his hand against it again even as he shoots a look out over the side of the gondola at Iorek’s departing back, the polar bear heading down towards the water and the sleek heads of seals already heading in the opposite direction.

One or two aren’t quite fast or smart enough to follow their fellows in a timely enough manner though, and Lee gets to have the pleasure of watching the chase, the panserbjørn an impressively powerful swimmer despite all his bulk.

“ _Dang,_ that’s –” Slipping back down inside the gondola, Lee lands somewhat messily between a couple of crates, wincing at Hester’s strict eye upon him as he defiantly cradles his erection through his clothes, the memory of all that’s happened this morning dead set on rushing back to him at once, “Come on now, Hester, it won’t take long –”

“ _No_ ,” She’s just as wound up as he is really, if far better at pretending otherwise, but she’s also got the brain out of the pair of them – particularly at times like now – and Lee’s learned by now it’s almost always in his best interests to listen to his little daemon.

But still –

“What do you mean ‘ _almost’_ ,” The extent of Hester’s dry sarcasm is quite something indeed, “Get a move on and let’s have the balloon ready to head off when Iorek gets back. Or do you _want_ to tell him you were greedy enough to indulge in your own company a second time and risk getting us all stuck out here in a storm, while he was fetching himself breakfast after going without?”

It’s a very good point. An excellent one, even.

“U-uh,” Still, the effect this idea has upon Lee is undoubtedly not the one Hester intends, for his mind presents him with an incredibly compelling image of Iorek instead _watching_ him while he takes care of himself.

Would there be any chance Iorek might _want_ to do that? Before joining in on the action – or after letting Lee see to him first; no ‘going without’ in this scenario.

And the thought of seeing to Iorek – and even of _seeing_ him –

Of rather specifically seeing certain parts of Iorek and, if Lee’s very good, hopefully being allowed to _touch_ –

“ _Fuck_ ,” It’s a whisper, his hips kicking up, the soles of his boots skidding a bit on the floor to the gondola as he muffles what might well be a whimper.

“We’re never going to get out of here, are we?” Slumping as if in despair, Hester bemoans.

\--

He _is_ good though, he’s very good, for all he doesn’t want to be – a quick scrub using a bucketful of melted ice doing less than pleasant wonders to put a stop to his body’s distraction at least temporarily, aided by a dose of decidedly arctic air against his skin during the following hasty change into fresh trousers.

A cup of coffee and a bite to eat helping to similarly steady his mind, Lee’s concentration sinks into the task of getting the balloon ready after a while, a job that requires paying enough attention to detail he can’t consider much of anything else – take chances as he sometimes might, he’s still not about to knowingly risk anybody’s neck.

Involved as he might be, there’s still an irrepressibly euphoric undercurrent to every movement he makes even so, only compounded by the thought of soon getting back up into the sky, and Lee’s unaware of bursting into joyful song or likewise of Hester, sometime later, clearing her throat.

“ _Lee_ ,” The forepaw she uses to aim a pointed swat at his left ear from her perch atop the machinery he’s examining succeeds in getting through to him, though.

“Now what was that for?” Rubbing at said ear as if she’d actually got it, Lee straightens up, realising he’s left off mid-verse, and starts to resume the unfinished lyric –

Before just about swallowing his tongue at the sight of Iorek, returned at some unknown point to sit poised neatly near to the side of the gondola, watching Lee very closely, his dark eyes intent.

“A-ah,” Dang it, he’s _not_ going to trip over his tongue just from setting eyes on the bear, even if his heart does launch its way back into his throat, “Hey, Iorek. You’re back.”

“Talk about stating the obvious, Lee,” He valiantly ignores both Hester’s mutter and her groan.

“You were singing,” Iorek announces without preamble, although there’s something to his tone that makes it almost a question – like this too is perhaps a human thing he’s not too familiar with. And –

Damn it, this is a tendency Lee’s old man had always come down on him harshly for, back when Lee was young enough to slip up when the bastard was around to overhear. Despite all the boots thrown in his direction though, he’s never been quite able to control the impulse.

“Yeah, I guess I was,” Scratching his head under his hat, Lee strives to conceal his wince, “I hope it wasn’t. Hah.” Despite everything, he can’t resist, “Objectionable.”

“It was not objectionable in the slightest,” Iorek’s scrubbed up very nicely again, just like that morning back when he’d stolen Lee’s breath in the sunlight, a glimmer of fast-drying droplets dappling his coat as he stirs, rising up on all four paws to –

Well, Lee’s brain provides the word _stalk_.

“You – didn’t mind?” He turns to keep Iorek within his sight as the polar bear inscribes a slow circle around him as best as Iorek’s able to within the somewhat cramped confines of the gondola.

“I enjoyed listening to it,” Iorek’s gaze remains steady on Lee’s face, his nostrils flaring as he finishes his circle in order to lean in close, nose drifting first over the fingers Lee holds out to him and then on up the man’s arm to the crook of his shoulder, “I would enjoy listening to more, if you feel so inclined during our journey.”

“Y-yeah, I can surely, ah. Sing for you,” Hardly breathing as that sensitive nose locates what part there is of his neck accessible, Lee feels his mouth go dry all over again despite the fact he drunk a fair amount of water on Hester’s prompting, to balance out the coffee he’s consumed.

He can’t blame the caffeine for the fact his heart feels like it’s gearing up to race clean out of his chest as that talented nose of Iorek’s takes its time resting at the collar of his shirt above the neck of his waistcoat, before drifting down to briefly investigate the tin of cigarillos Lee’s got tucked away in a pocket for safekeeping and for if the opportunity presents itself when they’re in whatever town they end up in and well away from the balloon.

“You mind them?” At the reminder of Iorek’s impressively detailed breakdown of the varied scents Lee apparently carries about himself and of Hester’s earlier warning that the strong smell of the tobacco could be less than agreeable to a body with such keen olfaction, Lee internally curses himself, “There’s no need to carry the tin on me, really.”

There’s also no real _need_ for him to smoke he supposes, when it comes down to it, just like there’s no real need for him to do a whole lot of things he nonetheless does – like drinking and putting off the essentials in favour of donating whatever they have to the gambling pot – but it doesn’t change the fact that he _likes_ to sit back and relax with one when life permits.

Still that’s hardly the important concern here, if Iorek does find them unpleasant.

“Why would I object when I have an excellent reason to in fact _approve_?” Pulling back enough to both blink and sniff at the cigarillos when Lee digs out the tin and opens it on Iorek’s nod to reveal the contents within, the panserbjørn gives a decided impression of a shrug that isn’t at all ambivalent, given there’s a clear smile there too, “Just like the parts of this balloon that were unfamiliar at first, the scent quickly came to grow more than welcome early on in our association – it is part of _yours_.”

Halfway through shutting the tin, Lee’s fingers fumble the lid, “You approve – because _they_ remind you of _me_ , rather than the other way around?”

Appallingly, the near overwhelming nature of his feelings on this are quite easily audible in his voice.

“Yes,” Iorek tips his head, “I believe that if we were to separate during our upcoming visit to the next town and I were to encounter the scent of another human in possession of such items, I would still experience a positive reaction given that I associate them so strongly with yourself. I could say the same for the coffee you brew or the product you sometimes place in your hair.”

“You – noticed that?” Running his fingers through his hair and thus undoing the work he’d put in to neaten it, Lee replaces his hat and shakes his head on a smile of his own, because he already knows the answer. He can’t stop himself from responding in kind, “Whereas I’d just be catching sight of any other panser –” He takes a steadying breath, “Panserbjørn and be mourning the fact they’re not _you_.”

“Lee,” Sitting up straighter, Iorek blinks at him, even as Hester lets out a snort.

“I, hah,” Feeling himself fluster, Lee ducks his head, “My pronunciation not _too_ terrible this time around?”

He hopes, he _hopes_ –

At least partly that Iorek doesn’t notice just how much Lee potentially just gave away there of the extent of his favourable opinion towards his polar bear friend, but also –

“Not too terrible at all,” Iorek agrees, everything about his body language openly pleased. Then he adds something in his own profound language, a spark of a certain kind entering his eyes, “I would hear you speak in my own tongue, if you would care to make the attempt.”

“You want me to try to speak your language?” Considering how fiercely private Lee has the decided impression panserbjørne are generally about much of their culture, the honour is far from lost on him, along with the fact this offer might be something Iorek’s aunt, for one, might heartily disapprove of.

But if Iorek wants him to –

“I’ve got to warn you, he’s going to be dreadful at it,” Hopping up to their friend, Hester’s ears go back in concern.

“I’d sure hate to unintentionally offend,” Lee wholeheartedly agrees, although Iorek is shifting in gently against him, mouth skimming his cheekbone before progressing down to his jaw.

“You will not offend,” There is a decided touch of something that could well be heat in Iorek’s tone, even as it’s light with a possible affectionate tease, the latter confirmed for sure when he adds, “Although I confess it is possible you could amuse.”

“So you just – _hah_ – you just want to laugh at my shortcomings,” Lee’s immensely hard put to make a play at sounding at all ornery when he’s got Iorek nudging his chin up so the polar bear can explore his throat, “I sh-should have known.”

Working a hand up between them to tug his scarf down to provide greater access, Lee swallows hard as Iorek inhales, Hester tucking herself in near his ankle as he reminds himself that the bear has not only already proved himself magnificently unperturbed by the scent of Lee’s arousal, but surely has to be aware by now that such actions will result in it.

Surely. Although that’s a touch of a presumption right there, isn’t it, and –

“Hm,” Iorek’s rumble against his throat has Lee’s cock jumping to ardent attention again and also makes his knees quiver to boot.

“What do you want me to say?” Gasping a little, he gets out.

“It includes a term panserbjørne do not have the language for,” Iorek confesses perhaps a tad sheepishly, while there’s anticipation there in his voice too, “At least, they did not. I have invented one.”

“Which is?” By Hester’s tone she’s starting to come up with a certain suspicion.

“Oh?” Tucking his fingers under Iorek’s own jaw, Lee strokes him there like that until Iorek shudders, near gasping himself.

“If I may be so rude as to tell you the phrase as a whole and then explain it after?” That light is still in his eye – and he’s still gently teasing, even as this is also clearly something he wants Lee to try.

“I’m up for that,” Grinning, Lee ducks his head to drop a kiss on the panserbjørn’s nose, admittedly tempted to inform Iorek that he’s up for anything his friend might think of, anything at all. He quirks an eyebrow down at Hester to confirm her agreement, “We’re not going to judge.”

“We’d never judge you, Iorek,” she obliges, entirely honest, although her tone implies she is however judging _Lee_ for his imagination quite thoroughly, “Not in any way.”

“I shall hold you to that, my friends,” Briefly solemn, Iorek bows his head to her, before repeating that light-hearted rumble in his own tongue, one Lee does his utmost to echo despite the fact he knows full well he’s not even halfway there.

“ _Good_ ,” is Iorek’s pronouncement on the matter even so, and kisses him enthusiastically enough it’s no surprise when Lee ends up down on his back on the floor, Hester scampering out of the way quickly, his descent softened by a judicious paw.

“What in the world did I _say_?” Spluttering with laughter, Lee gives the great head a teasing shove he doesn’t in any way mean, beyond delighted when Iorek very carefully tussles with him just a little in return, “And can you repeat it so I can say it again?”

“That you wanted me to kiss you – or at least that was the intent,” Looking only somewhat guilty, Iorek licks Lee’s fingers as if in apology, relaxing notably when Lee surges back in to cover his friend’s face with kisses of his own.

“You got that one right for sure,” They’re only separated after some time by Hester, with the much needed reminder that the balloon’s not going to take off by itself and nor is the probable storm going to stop brewing, and the wind’s getting set to turn either which way.

“Damn it, rabbit,” Extracting himself all over again with equal reluctance to the time before, Lee tidies himself without much success, relishing the heat that’s undeniable this time in Iorek’s gaze before the polar bear likewise makes an effort at composing himself.

They get the balloon inflated – not at all similarly, thank you Hester, to Lee’s head – and Iorek doesn’t close his eyes this time as they take off, although he does remain carefully motionless in the belly of the gondola, the fingers of Lee’s free hand tangled in his ruff.

When Hester curls in right next to him a moment later, nestling in against a great forepaw, Iorek makes a noise of surprised pleasure, glancing between her and Lee, the man’s legs once again having gone out.

“H-Hester –” He can _feel_ that touch, can feel it through every part of him, not just his bones. And unlike his old man’s hard hands or that cruel grip back in the warehouse in Novy Odense –

It feels more right than anything he’s ever experienced in his entire life.

“Hester?” Iorek noses at her tiny head with utmost care, while she closes her eyes happily.

“Mm?” She sounds as content as she does self-satisfied, “Don’t mind me, will you.”

“I do not,” Entirely sincere, Iorek’s tone is heavy with emotion, “I am honoured, my friends.”

“Iorek, we are too,” Lee gets out beyond the block in his throat, once he’s ensured the wind’s going to behave long enough that they don’t get swept towards that possible storm or too far off course. He can only whisper, “Of course we are.”

“Thank you,” The lick Iorek gives his fingers this time around feels very much like a kiss.

“You don’t have to thank us; thank _you_ ,” Smiling irrepressibly as they leave that little patch of land they’d made theirs for new parts of this northern world, Lee starts up with that song of his once more.


End file.
